


ORPHANS

by marriedlarry



Category: Larry Stylinson - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-04-05 07:21:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 48,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14039097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marriedlarry/pseuds/marriedlarry
Summary: Harry and Louis, childhood friends who met in their orphanage.But When Harry gets adopted, Louis is left with nothing but a broken heart, and wondering why he ever had to fall for the curly haired boy with the mesmerising green eyes.--"You can't leave me, you-you promised.""Louis, I promise that I will find you again, no matter what."--Originally posted on Wattpad under my same username @marriedlarry but I decided hey why not post it here too.[LARRY STYLINSON AU]





	1. Chapter 1

Louis POV

(flashback)

"Mum, where are we going?" I looked up at the woman who had raised me, with a level of unconditional love pouring from my features.

She glanced briefly down at me with an unreadable expression coating her eyes. She had yet to reply, which was a mystery to me, for she always had something to say. I continuously sulked in the passenger seat of the run down car my father had left us.

Riding in the passenger seat was something which I had pleaded for my entire life, but was never granted, for I was too small. But today had been different, she allowed it with little to no defiance.

The car was the only thing that my father had left, other than a couple of broken hearts and scars that would never heal, no matter how long they were left to fester.

I turned up the dial to the car radio, allowing the Katy Perry album to fill the confines of the vehicle, humming along in content.

My mother kept her eyes strictly on the road, her knuckles turning white from gripping the wheel ever so tightly. The wind whistled through the gaps, swirling around me in a way that sent shivers up my spine.

She took a left turn, eyes still trained on the path ahead. The surroundings were unfamiliar to me, causing my stomach to turn as a result. I had never been one to enjoy new things.

The breaks were pressed abruptly, causing the car to jerk forward in response. My gaze rose from where I'd previously been focussed on my lap, and to a building up ahead.

The building was almost grey in colouring, signifying how long it had stood built. It stood three levels tall, each framed with large windows that presented the life inside. Ivy coated the bricks, weaving its way around each individual molecule. A large tree, stripped from its leaves, stood at either side, giving the house an eery feel that left me cold inside.

My gaze fell briefly upon the children rushing around inside, "Is this our new home?" I had questioned, although deep inside I had known the true reasoning to why we sat there.

My mother turned to face me, tears present in the eyes that hadn't held light for so long. She presented me with a sympathetic smile, but still no verbal response.

A large, unfamiliar lady began to approach the vehicle in which we sat. The wrinkles were present in her aged skin, greasy black hair tied into a bun at the back of her head. She wore a grey jumper, secured around the waist in a leather belt. To say she scared me would be an understatement, but I refused to let it show. My mother un-rolled the car windows, allowing now perfect access to the beast outside.

The woman directed a grin toward me, yellow teeth causing bile to raise to the back of my throat, "You must be Lewis?"

I shook my head, annoyed at the shrek like woman, "Lou-eee," I replied smugly, holding out the "E" in order to ensure that she would not get it wrong a second time.

The doors were clicked open, my mother pulling me into a short embrace as she did so, "Behave, Louis. I love you so much, never forget that," she wiped a tear that had begun to form, "Don't ever be afraid of who you are, don't change for anyone. But most importantly, don't be afraid to love again, you'll find someone who will treat you the way you deserve to be treated. I just wish I would be able to meet them one day. But I can't, son, and I am so sorry for that. I will forever be sorry. Run along now, be safe, fix that broken heart of yours." She placed a kiss on my forehead.

The woman who I had yet to be introduced to, pulled me from the car and into her embrace, as I watched our car drive away.

Only that, now I wasn't in the car. I was alone. I felt tears begin to bubble, and for once I allowed them to tear down the barriers I had built. Sobs racking through my body in turn.

(end of flashback)  
-

"Louis!"

I snapped my head up quickly, ridding myself of the memories that had resurfaced. I wonder what Miss Roberts wanted? Come to think of it, I still couldn't seem to stand her even after a couple of years.

The woman approached me, a small boy tucked into her side. The sight was all too familiar.

"Louis, this is Harry. You will be in charge of him," Miss Roberts spoke in her deep voice.

I made accidental eye contact with the boy, he had the most beautiful chocolate brown curls and piercing green eyes. The sight of such a precious boy, so broken, knocked the wind straight out of me. It was far from fair that bad things happened to such good people.

Being mature for my age, I stood up politely to greet him, "Uhm hi Harry, I'm Louis," I smiled shyly and Harry returned it.

I held my hand for him to shake, but instead he pulled me into his arms, his head resting in the crook of my neck as tears fell from his eyes. I rubbed my hand in circular patterns across his back, in attempts to soothe him.

He pulled back shortly after, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his jumper, "Sorry about that," he smiled shyly, averting his gaze to the ground and fixing it there.

I lifted his chin so that his eyes met mine, and in that moment I had never felt more content. Blue and green swirled perfectly together to connect in a bond that sent sparks flying through my body, "It's Okay, love." I whispered.

He grinned in response, dimples creating crevices in his perfect face, pulling me into his embrace once more.

I smiled at the fact I felt warm and complete after all these years, and he smiled at the fact that someone finally seemed to care.

The more I learnt about him, the further I fell. My heart ached more and more each time he failed to smile, and my eyes would be brighter each time he finally did. I would hug him whenever I could, because that was the only time in which I would feel safe.

He was my home.

It was beautiful, it was a love that should've ended like they do in the fairytales, but of course it didn't; they never do.

-

I heard sniffling in the bed beside me. I hesitantly padded over, the tiles felt cold on my bare feet. 

"Harry?" I whispered softly, running my hand through his hair.

"Hmm," He mumbled but it was obvious that he was relaxing visibly under my touch.

"What's wrong, Harold," I smiled down at him sleepily, my eyes filled with such emotion for the boy that it was unmissable.

He pulled me into him, I grinned against his neck in response. I willed myself to look at him, and when I did, I felt my heart swell.

His eyes shimmered, and even in the darkness I could see the perfect shade that reflected so many hidden feelings.

There comes a time, where a blind man holds your hand, and says "Can't you see?"

And for once in my life, I could see perfectly, as I tiled his chin and connected our lips for a brief kiss that lasted less than a second. I froze in response to the feeling, placing my hand over my lips which now felt numb without his covering them.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

Harry then out of no where broke down in front of me, tears falling down his face at a rapid pace. For a second, the fear that struck me was paralysing when I thought that he was crying because of the kiss. But he wasn't. It was the dream, those God awful dreams that I wanted to take away. If I could, I would switch positions with him in a heart beat. Take away all of his pain and suffering and replace it with the happiness that he deserved.

He tried to explain everything to me but it took a while as it all came out in choked sobs. I rubbed his back as an attempt to calm him.

"Louis, the dream, it-it felt so real." Harry stuttered, his eyes still glossy with tears threatening to once again fall down.

"I know, love. I know." I placed my lips to his forehead, running my fingers through his hair until his breaths became heavy and shallow.

Harrys POV

The morning was going to be awkward for us both, I practically got up at the crack of dawn to avoid Louis' upcoming worried glances.

It's not that I was disgusted at him for what he did, I wasn't. In fact it was the opposite. And I hated myself for it.

I knew I wasn't normal and that God would punish me. I mean after all, that's what I was bought up to think.

I had no idea how I'd ever get over the look on my mothers face when she saw the two boys together at the shop, who had only shared a simple, love filled kiss.

I personally didn't see anything wrong with it and I was confused at why she was so mortified. Technically my mother didn't know for fact that God hated gays, especially seeing as he's considered omnibenevolent.

God's hate towards homosexuals was all just words written on paper to me. Besides my mothers opinions didn't have a meaning anymore, she left me, Louis didn't.

Louis would always be there for me, I didn't know how I knew that, but I did.

Nothing could come between Lou and I; or so I thought...


	2. Chapter 2

LOUIS POV

I peeked over my cheap, metal framed bed to check on Harry, leaving me confused when I realised he wasn't there. I imagine that he would be upset upset after his nightmare last night. I was quite shocked actually that he had another night terror, I thought they had passed. He used to suffer them badly and regularly when he first got here, but after a month or so they soon faded. Last night was the first time in a while that he had one and from what I can recall it was one of the worst he's had. Usually I would just wake him up and he'd fall back asleep; last night was different. I decided to take a shower to calm my nerves.

The slightly too hot water cascaded down my back, instantly relaxing me. I hummed softly along to a random tune as I took time to look around the bathroom. The walls were a dull grey colour and the room seemed to be water damaged, which was no surprise really considering the age of this Orphanage.

I momentarily stepped out of the shower to reach out and get the small bag I used to contain my basic toiletries. That was another thing that annoyed me about being stuck in this place, we had to use communal showers. Luckily you could shower whenever, so there wasn't usually a hold up. I sighed as I looked to see the water that had escaped onto the floor. I'd have to clean that up later.

I picked out my highly affordable 2 in 1 shower gel and shampoo from the small bag and began to transfer the liquid onto my body and hair, taking extra time to massage it into my scalp. Once the soap had foamed up, I stepped back under the now cooling water in order to rinse myself off. Unfortunately, some of the shampoo got into my eyes and I winced as I tried to get it out. The stinging and burning of my eyes soon subsided, and with that, I forced myself to turn off the shower.

I shook my soaking wet hair. Beads of water hitting the ugly, constricting walls around me. I grabbed the rough towel that was lazily slung over the metal rack and wrapped it around my waist. I shivered as the air outside of the water hit me. I sighed once again reaching into my toiletry bag for my tooth brush.

HARRY POV

I sat there for I don't know how long, re- thinking everything I was taught. I swung my legs slowly, backwards and forwards, as they hung over the edge of my all ready made bed. I heard the door to my dormitory open and there stood Louis. And God was he beautiful. I realise that beautiful is quite an unusual way to describe a boy, but that's the only word I can think of that seems to fit him.

"Alright Haz?" Louis asked, raising an eyebrow as he took in the blush that was already spreading across my cheeks.

I nodded but didn't reply, not trusting my voice.

-

We were in a comfortable silence for a while as Louis picked around the room, cleaning up random bits, when for the second time today the door to our dorm opened. Miss Roberts was stood there, hunched over her manly figure. Next to her stood two people, a couple I assume but I could be wrong. The woman was quite tall and the man stood next to her was about the same size, perhaps slightly smaller.

"Boys, we have two people here who are looking to adopt!" Miss Roberts forced an exited tone and although I may not be the brightest lad I knew it was put on. I felt pity towards Miss Roberts actually. She had always seemed lonely and I don't think in the entire time I've been here I'd seen her smile. My guess was that she was around the age of 30, but her constant frowning had made her age a lot more noticeably.

-

"Hello, I'm Anne." It was nice to see that the woman stood behind Miss Roberts finally decided to speak after an awkward silence. Honestly though, that makes me so angry. Like who on earth goes to a quite frankly piece of shit orphanage to look at some half broken children, and barley speak two words the whole time? And that's excluding the man that she's bought with her, he's even worse. He's just stood there with a stupid, smug look on his face and I honesty have no idea why.

"Yeahhh," Louis said after a while of even more silence, "I'm just gonna go. I'm really not in the mood to discuss some housing arrangements that never work out."

Anne looked genuinely confused at what Louis had just said, "I-uhm what exactly do you mean?" She spoke.

"Oh don't worry, Angela is it? I'm quite aware of how this whole adoption shit works." Louis scoffed.

"Care to clarify?"

Louis laughed without a trace humour at that, "Sure, shall we talk about my first, second or even third adoptive parents?"

"Louis." Miss Roberts spoke in a failed attempt to calm him down.

"So according to my first adoptive parents, I whined too much. And to my second ones I apparently wasn't, and I quote, clever enough. But wait for it, my third family had a particularly amusing reasoning to why they wanted to get rid of me. After about 3 months of being in their care, they got bored of me. And I'm not even guessing this, no they told me right to my face! So this, Anna, is why I really don't want to stay and chat!" Louis was almost shouting at this point, and if looks could kill, Louis would've been dead instantly from the glare that the man next to Anne was giving him.

Honestly, I could understand why Louis reacted like that. From what he'd told me, he'd had his hopes raised multiple times at the thought of a new family, only to be crushed after a short period of time under their care.

"My name is Anne, not Angela, or Anna." That was the only thing she said and I swear I heard Louis mumble to himself, "Close enough." Soon after, she dragged the rest of the adults in the room out. Leaving Louis and I to take in what had just happened.

How dare she? Louis just tells her about all of his failed adoptions, which we could all tell was a touchy subject for him, and she doesn't even have the decency to come back with a proper response. She just corrects her name and leaves. That tells me a lot about her character.

Before I could register what was happening, Louis' fist collided with something hard. The once white wall now had a fairly large indent and a couple of drops of his blood smeared across it. My heart began to race as I saw Louis stare down at his bruised and bleeding knuckles, tears creating an endless stream down his face.


	3. Chapter 3

Louis POV

I didn't feel like speaking to anyone, not even my best friend.

I woke up with a killer headache and incredibly painful knuckles. I could instantly tell it was going to be a bad day. I don't know how, I just could.

I however was sure my knuckles were not broken, as Harry had closely inspected them last night; so I guess that was a positive. The real reason I was avoiding him was because he had never seen me that vulnerable and angry. I'm scared that he will be afraid of me, due to yesterday's violent outburst, or that he will judge me for over reacting and perhaps think I'm weak.

I am not weak.

I'm just angry.

Angry at my parents for leaving without so much as a proper goodbye.

But mostly I'm just scared.

Scared that Harry will leave me just as they did.

I realised that I am in fact just that,

I am weak...

Harry POV

The guilt is absolutely crushing me, and there is nothing I can do. Miss Roberts came in this morning whilst Louis was still asleep to inform me on what was happening. Apparently I was 'too young' to have any input into the decision. Which was totally out of order, I mean it is my life after all. I should at least get some say in what's to happen to me for the next 6 years or so. But apparently not.

It was completely decided, I was going to get adopted.

The first thing that went through my mind when she told me was confusion. I mean, the couple from last night had only just met me. I'd hardly said two words to them so how the hell did they know that I was 'the one.'

To be quite honest they were probably just desperate. They had most likely already been through all the decent kids at all the good orphanages. But those kids must have already been reserved or something. I personally didn't see anything special about me. There were: nicer, younger, and better behaved children at this place. So why me? Boring old Harry.

Suddenly, the confusion was overtaken by a feeling of sadness like no other. Even worse than when my mother had left. I couldn't help the tears that streamed down my face, and the sobs that I choked out. It had just hit me. I was going to leave him, my best friend, and honestly I was devastated. Not only for myself, but for him. I felt awful.

You see that isn't the main reason why I felt like this. It's because I have so little time left with my best friend and I know this will crush him. Louis will once again be alone and feel as if he's been abandoned. I blame his mother for this. The way she left him was not only heartbreaking but traumatic. I guess if you look at it in a certain way I'm doing exactly what she did all those years back, abandoning him. Only this time it's not by choice. I want to stay, and trust me I've tried to reason with Miss Roberts but according to social services I have little, to no say in whether on I am adopted until I'm 14.

And now I have to face Louis, God only knows how he will react but I'm assuming it's not going to go great. I hate this. I hate how I'm going to see the pain in his eyes. Pain that I caused.

When I first met him, I could instantly tell how sad he was. I don't know how, I just could. So I made myself a promise. A promise to do whatever I could not to hurt him. And I know for a fact that the promise is about to be broken.

I was about to knock on the door, as I know it annoys Louis when people don't, when I felt a tap on my shoulder.

I looked up to see a slightly over weight man staring down at me. Robin I believe. He was the annoying man from yesterday, and he was part of the reason that this disaster was about to occur. He however seemed to be absolutely oblivious to the fact that I was about to leave my best friend, as he made an attempt to smile at me.

"We're leaving soon," he said as he placed his large hand on my shoulder, taking yet another step towards me, "Don't forget to pack all of your things, son."

I rolled my eyes before brushing his hand off of me. He would never be my father, and I didn't need family. I only need Louis. He's helped me through so much, and as cheesy as it sounds we need each other.

I realised that Robin was still there, waiting for an answer. I managed to mumble out a small, "Whatever," before swallowing my pride and knocking on the door which was currently separating myself and Louis.

Robin left, leaving me some privacy to break the news.

Louis slowly opened the door, his bright blue eyes were shiny and his long eyelashes were stuck together with moisture. The area around his eyes where puffy and red, he'd been crying. Panic surged through me, what could have caused this?

"T-tell me y-you're not leaving," Louis stuttered out in a small voice which was quite honestly heartbreaking. I was confused for a moment as to how he'd found out, before realising the walls in this orphanage where practically paper thin. He must've overheard Robin telling me to pack.

"Louis," I managed to say, stepping towards him and quickly engulfing him into my arms, for what could be one of the last times, "I am so sorry, trust me I am."

I was pushed away from him with a force I never knew his body could produce. "No!" He shouted taking a step away from me. He wrapped his arms around himself as if they were a protective shield, "You can't leave me, you-you promised." Louis' voice cracked at the end, causing tears to not only fall from his eyes, but from mine as well.

Seeing Louis upset, hurt me so much but I knew I deserved to feel this pain. I was a horrible human being and he had every right to hate me. I knew from the minute he pushed me out of his arms that I'd lost him, but I had to try.

"Please Louis, you have to believe me. I'd never leave you purposely, I don't want to leave. Trust me I want to stay, here with you." I cautiously stepped towards him, but he just continued to move further away.

"You're leaving me just like my mummy did. Why are you leaving? I did nothing wrong. Please don't leave Harry." His already weak voice trailed off at the end. How could he possibly think that this was his fault?

He sounded so small and vulnerable and I wanted nothing more than to take him into my arms again, but I knew that I couldn't. I wanted to tell him again that I don't want to leave, but I know he wouldn't believe me. I now realised that I needed to tell him something, and no I'm not about to say this to him in an attempt to win him back. Louis just deserves to know. And yes I'm only young, but somehow I just know that I'd do anything for him. I'd give my life for Louis. So I finally picked up the courage to say the only thing I had left to say.

"I love you."

"Harry, just leave!"

I'd like to think that I was surprised at his response, but I honestly wasn't. My green eyes met with his blue ones and I saw nothing but pain, sadness and betrayal in them. I knew what I had to do. And although it pained me to walk away, I knew that I'd have to sooner or later. They say if you love something, let them go, and that's exactly what I was doing.

"Louis, I promise that I will find you again, no matter what."

And with that I stepped out of the room that held hundreds of memories shared between us. I took the suitcase which was already packed with the small amount of belongings that I owned, and headed on downstairs. 

It wasn't long before I was getting into Anne and Robins car. The tears seemed never ending as I drove away from my best friend, taking a mental photograph of the orphanage as I glanced at it for the final time...


	4. Chapter 4

6 YEAR FLASH FORWARD

Louis POV

Numbness was all that I felt.

But I faked a smile on a day to day basis which led to everyone to think that I was okay. From what I'd heard I was known as 'Louis the ladies man' or sometimes I was even referred to as a jock, which was quite laughable if I'm being honest.

I was far from okay. I miss him. I avoid using his name to avoid the pain that comes along with it. But I feel it all, and it's worse than any pain I've ever felt before.

I've got years of constantly scarring my body to prove it.

I've never looked at anyone the way I looked at him, and I don't think I ever will. For me relationships just don't work. This isn't because no one wants to date me, that's far from the case. I've dated a few girls here and there but nothing ever got too serious. Eleanor being my most recent. She was okay I guess. Nothing too special about her.

Eleanor was sort of a 'plain Jane' to put it bluntly. Her personality was as fake as the makeup caked onto her face. Now that I think about it, in the whole year or so of dating her, I don't think I ever managed to see her without the mask-like excuse of makeup that was painted onto her.

Most couples get pretty far sexually in a year at our age, yet we'd only gotten to making out before I'd quite literally almost thrown up. The truth is that we weren't like most couples, the reason being that she was the completely wrong gender for my liking.

I am gay and I've known that since the day I first met my curly haired friend at the orphanage. Unfortunately, he left before I could properly express my feelings for him. Just like how I'd expected him too.

Actually that's a lie, for some reason I thought he'd be different. He wasn't.

To say I don't wonder where he is would be a lie, because I do. But surely if he had wanted to contact me he would've done it earlier? It's not that I'm lonely as such either, I do have friends. But there is no doubt a missing part of me, that part being the boy who left me at 12 years of age.

My current friendship group consists of Liam, who's a fairly tall, well built guy. There is also another person among us who I don't know as well, his name is Stan. My closest friend is called Zayn, that's not how it's spelt but he forces everyone to write it like that for 'originality.'

He can be very mysterious to people who don't know him well, due do his array of tattoos. He also insists on wearing his signature leather jacket everywhere. Zayn can also be scary at times, especially when he'd slam innocent people into the corridor walls at school.

I can't judge him though because I'm not proud to say that I did the same. My upbringing was full of emotional pain and so I feel as if everyone's should be filled with physical pain. Which isn't fair. Luckily those days are over since we're all 18 and out of school. We didn't feel it necessary to go to sixth-form or college.

That leads me onto the next bit, my upbringing. After he left, I was only in the orphanage for about 2 years. I wasn't adopted, no. No one liked me enough for that, which is understandable. I wasn't a cute, doll-like boy like he was.

I was fostered into a family with about 4 other kids, all boys and all older than me. They were also all biologically hers. I don't see why she felt the need to foster a child when she already had so many of her own. Perhaps it was to try and calm them down, maybe to teach them how to look after a younger sibling. But all 4 of those boys rejected me almost immediately and I'm not gonna lie that hurt.

As I grew older the words of abuse that came from them got worse, they'd shove me about and call me a 'fag' or a 'waste of space' and one of their favourites was 'orphan.' The funny thing is that I was and still am all of those.

That part of my childhood isn't what pains me, the cruel words that my foster siblings would speak out to me is nothing compared to the pain that I felt the day that he left. As soon as I watched the black, polished car pull out of the orphanage, I felt my world quite literally fall apart.

He was all I had.

Although I consider them my friends, no one knows that I'm gay, and that's quite honestly because they'd freak out. I have a feeling Liam would be accepting though. Even with his tough exterior, he's as soft as a puppy. Zayn however would flip and quite honestly I'm not in the mood for drama. I'm just going to keep the whole homosexual thing on the down-low, for a while at least.

-

The irritating alarm clock beside me woke me from my dream. I groaned in response but still turned to shut it off. For some reason I had agreed to help Zayn get a couple of new outfits for some party he was attending. Like I said earlier we didn't go to college but somehow Zayn still managed to make some friends from there.

Groaning once more for emphasis, even though there was no one there, I got out of bed. I ran my hand through my hair as I headed towards the bathroom.

The pros of living alone are that you can leave your things wherever you please, this being the case in my bathroom. All of my toiletries are scattered around the place willy-nilly. This can either be the greatest thing, or the biggest pain in the arse. There's no in between.

I was able to afford living alone due to benefits. It wasn't a great income, but it was better than working and that's something I'd trade all privileges to avoid.

Grabbing my toothbrush and toothpaste, I began to brush my teeth. I paced around my bathroom whilst doing so until finally the timer went off and I stepped into the shower.

Whenever I shower in the mornings, it's always quite fast, so I can never fully relax. I did the basics and got out of shower, wrapping the towel around my waist.

I then quickly moved onto my hair. This bit was always quite tricky for me considering I had hair that never wanted to cooperate with me. I'd want it one way and it would fall naturally the other. The only solution was to apply a hell load of hair wax and blow dry it into place. Sometimes if I was really having a bad hair day, I'd bring a small can of hairspray.

Quite honestly I don't know how people could possibly still think I'm straight. I'm literally the definition of gay. Look up gay in the dictionary and there will be a picture of me with some sort of flamboyant pose. It's just who I am. Sassy and very much gay.

Before much thought could go into my perfect quiff, a very impatient Zayn was repeatedly pressing the doorbell outside my house. I wanted to keep him waiting for a few minutes but the constant ringing soon became too much. I decided to end his misery and start mine by opening the door. This was going to be a long day.


	5. Chapter 5

Louis POV

Zayn's loud, and quite frankly obnoxious voice soon filled the room. I was pulled into a 'bro-hug' as he proceeded to say how exited he was to see me.

"Tommo! Mate it's been too long." He spoke out happily. His behaviour was quite adorable actually, it was much similar to that of a puppy after its owner had been away for a while.

I smiled back and mustered out a small, "yeah, it has." Not really knowing what else to say. My response was filled with little energy and this flipped some sort of switch in Zayn.

"Oi! Louis, I'm not gonna accept that. It's been what 2 months now?" I lifted my gaze from the floor to finally look my friend in the eyes, they were different. Sad almost. And I felt bad because it was obvious that he had missed me. And I'd made no effort to contact him back. "I mean look at you Tommo. It's almost as if you've been in hibernation or some shit."

I let out an airy laugh. I really had no excuse to why I had been isolating myself from the world. Other than the fact that I realised, finally, the promise that myself and my childhood friend had made all those years back was unlikely to happen. I had no way to contact him, and he sure as hell wasn't making an effort.

"I'm sorry." I said, and I really was. my façade was starting to fade and effect others, and I couldn't let that happen. No one could ever see how broken I truly was, I wouldn't allow it. And if that meant wearing long sleeves at all times then I would. My sadness didn't deserve to be brushed off onto other people.

Zayn nodded and pulled me into another hug, a proper one this time. And for the first time in months, I felt comfort. Maybe it was the look in his eyes when he was explaining how much he missed me, or maybe it was the way he knew when I needed to be hugged, but I felt myself tearing up. Zayn may be an asshole to others, he may be the most vain person you'll ever meet, but to me, he was honestly one of the greatest friends I could ask for.

After a couple of minutes of just being in his embrace, I pulled away. Wiping my eyes as I did so. Surprisingly though, Zayn didn't tease me like I thought he would. Instead he grabbed my arm, and literally dragged me out of the apartment complex. Luckily, I had remembered to grab the keys that were hanging by the door just in time. Because I honestly was not in the mood to spend the night outside my flat.

Zayn rushed to get into the car first, for a reason unknown to me. Leaving me on the curb. Not long after though, the window was being rolled down, and Zayn's head stuck out of it.

"Get in loser, we're going shopping." Zayn said in an accent that he always seemed to do. I rolled my eyes but didn't need to be told twice. English weather was fucking freezing.

Zayn went to turn the radio on and I sighed because he and I had a very different taste in music. He was more into the R&B/HipHop type of thing, which if I was being completely honest gave me a headache, whereas I was more into the alternative side of things. However, that was quite a generalisation, because sometimes I was in the mood for another genre.

Just as predicted, Zayn turned the radio over to a station called 'Kiss' that held all of the 'mainstream' songs. I leaned back further and prepared myself for the drive to the shopping centre.

-

"Fucking finally." I mumbled to myself. However Zayn heard, and this just lead to one of his rants about how great his taste in music was and how I was just jealous. I scoffed at this but decided not to bring up the fact he was completely wrong, in fear of him becoming butthurt.

Shutting the car door behind me, I walked ahead in order to get first pick on the shop. It wasn't even that I was bothered, I just really didn't want to spend all day looking in TopMan for Zayn's perfect outfit. Zayn ran after me in order to catch up, considering I had walked a couple of meters in the time it took him to lock up his car.

"God!" he said once he'd finally reached me, placing a hand on my shoulder as he regained his breath. "Tommo, mate. You can't pull shit like that on me. You know these lungs don't work as well as they used to."

"I wonder why."

-

"Hey, why don't you just come to the party with me? I'm sure they won't mind." Zayn said as we were driving home.

It had seemed like an alright idea at the time, but here I am, 3 hours later stuck at Zayn's flat waiting for him to chose one of the various outfits he had bought.

"Zayn, yes. It looks good on ya, but can we please hurry the fuck up!" I didn't understand how one human being could possibly take so long. I usually just showered, put on a plain long-sleeved t-shirt and a pair of jeans, nothing too fancy. Zayn on the other hand, had to make sure even his black items of clothing matched.

"Listen here, it takes time to look like a God." He replied, whilst putting on his leather jacket.

"How modest of you."

Before I knew it, I was once again being dragged out of a building. I should really mention this whole dragging thing to Zayn, I mean I don't particularly like having bruises on my body. But I gave in and soon enough I was in the warmth of his car. I was grateful that he didn't pull another one of his stunts like he had this morning, and leave me in the cold. I assumed that the temperature was in the minuses by this point.

Zayn was the first to break the silence, "So, I was talking to this girl the other night, right."

I hummed to show that I was listening, before letting him continue.

"Her name is Perrie, and Jesus she's so hot mate. Like she's got this blonde hair, and the bluest eyes. She um- she reminds me of one of those cats, you know the white ones with the bright blue eyes." Zayn was honestly so bad at describing things, but I understood what he'd meant and therefore gave him a small nod. He rambled about her for the whole drive there, it was kind of cute. he seemed to have quite the crush on her. And although only meeting her the other night, he was talking about her as if she'd won woman of the year or something. She seemed nice though, I was looking forward to meeting her.

"So yeah I think I'm gonna speak to her some more tonight. I'm just kinda nervous I guess, like what if she doesn't like me?"

"Zayn. Look at you, you said so your self, you're a God. You'll do fine." I gave him a reassuring pat on the back as I struggled to free myself from my seat belt. It had seemed so much easier this morning and now I just couldn't get ou-

Zayn chuckled before saying, "Need any help there?"

I nodded, embarrassed, but soon I was free from the car seat and making my way into the house in which the party was held at, a cheap bottle of vodka in one hand. The drink wasn't for me, I don't drink often. And besides, I was the driver for tonight because I was almost certain that I'd have to take Zayn's car, as usual. He'd get a lift home from some chick most likely, leaving me his car to drive home. I did have a licence, I just didn't really have the money for a car right now.

-

I was currently dragging some short, brown girl up the stairs. Her name began with a 'D' I think. She was sober, as was I. She was probably pregnant or something, I didn't really care enough to find out. I had no idea where Zayn was, and I was bored. So for some stupid reason I decided to hook up with some chick. She was pretty, yes. But her red lipstick made me cringe for a reason I didn't know.

My front collided with a head of blonde hair, that belonged to some kid. "Shit! Sorry." He muttered in an accent that was unknown to me. I rolled my eyes and continued up the stairs.

I opened the door to the first free room that I saw, taking no time in pushing the girl onto the bed. To be quite honest, I just wanted to get this over and done with. She pulled the black shirt I was wearing over my torso, revealing an array of tattoos. Licking her lips, in a way that I'm sure was supposed to be hot, she began undoing her own blouse.

I put my hand up as if to tell her to wait. Our lips connected for the first time, it wasn't bad. But it just wasn't right. And that was for obvious reasons. I was trying to push those to the back of my mind however.

Her tongue traced over my bottom lip, and damn was this girl eager. I hesitantly opened my mouth though and allowed our tongues to battle against each other, for a while. A high pitched moan left her lips when I'd started grinding on her. I wasn't getting enough friction however, and that was annoying me.

I finally began to un-zip my jeans, pulling them down, only slightly. My boxers following quickly after.

"Condom?" I asked, that being one of the only words we'd exchanged so far. She nodded and pulled one out of her bra. What the fuck? Was all that went through my mind. Winking as she handed it to me, I ripped the package open and rolled it down my length in one swift movement. I was barely hard, so I jerked myself off a couple of times.

The girl had already taken off her blouse, which completely clashed with the rest of her outfit but that wasn't really the point. She sat up and reached behind her in order to   
un-clasp her bra...


	6. Chapter 6

Wait...un-clasp her bra? And then, it suddenly hit me, like a tonne of bricks. I was about to fuck this girl. What was I thinking?

"I-i-i can't do this." I said. Taking off the condom as I struggled to pull up my boxers and jeans. I leaned down in order to pick up my shirt that was sprawled across the floor. I hurried to put it on, ashamed of my body. It hadn't mattered before, because we were both too distracted to focus on each others bodies. I think we both just wanted something quick. The poor girl had sat up, pulling the sheet up so that she was covered. She looked confused, but I'm sure she didn't care too much.

"Are you being fucking serious?" she spoke out in a quite frankly annoying voice. "So you were just going to fuck me and leave?" What was this girl going on about? Like could someone please clarify? Because I was genuinely so confused.

I was now standing, fully clothed, with my eyebrow raised. "I'm sorry...what?" I realised that I probably sounded like your typical 'fuckboy' at this moment in time, but to be blunt what was this girl expecting.

"It's because I'm too fat isn't it?" Tears began to fall down her face, leaving a trail of mascara in their trace. I just needed a moment at this stage to process everything, because my brain really didn't want to function with me.

"No, Trust me it's not you it's me." I realised how cliche that sounded and so I walked over to where she was on the bed, awkwardly placing my hand on her shoulder. I however, didn't want to sit on the bed as I felt that it would cause even more unnecessary tension. I then followed up my actions by saying, "I'm gay, just don't tell anyone."

"So it's not me?" She asked, as if not believing what had just come out of my mouth.

"Course not love. If I were straight I'd be all over you." I added a wink but at that moment, my body had decided to work against me, making it look as if my eye had just had some sort of spasm. She giggled at this.

"I'm just going to go...you know things to do." Things where getting really awkward, at least for me, so I wanted to leave. And badly. "I'm sure I'll see you around D...?" I felt slightly guilty that I hadn't remembered her name. But then again I hadn't really had the time to process it.

"Danielle." She breathed.

"Seeya around, Danielle." I followed up my actions with a nod, before leaving the room. There wasn't much more that I could've done. I went downstairs to face the new nightmare, which was trying to get Zayn home.

I spotted him squished up against Perrie, which surprised me. They seemed to be really hitting off, she didn't strike me as the 'Zayn' type.

I walked over to him, waving my hand across his face in order to catch his attention, "Zayn I'm gonna head out, you coming?"

Zayn shook his head, "Perrie will give me a lift, won't ya?" He asked, directing the question at her.

"Sure thing." She said with a smile.

"Okay lovebirds, I'll catch you later." I said, a natural eye roll from Zayn followed.

"Louis..." He said ushering me to come closer, so that he could whisper in my ear, "Protect my car as if it's your child."

I laughed and shook my head in disbelief that he cared so much about his car, before patting my pockets in order to make sure that the car keys were there. With one final look behind me, I left the party.

-

Everything just felt wrong: the seat belt was too tight, my feet could only just reach the peddle, which made me feel even smaller than I already felt, and it wasn't dark enough.

I let my eyes wander to the car clock, it read 22:34. Of course it was dark, but my flashlights shun too bright onto the road, illuminating the area.

Thoughts began to cloud my head, thoughts which revolved around a certain brunette girl. I didn't have any feelings for her, of course, but I just felt bad.

Really bad.

It was the look on her face just before I left the room that keeps repeating in my mind, the way she'd started crying out of nowhere. She seemed broken, and I knew I wasn't the one who would fix her.

I bashed the steering wheel in frustration. I'd probably made everything a thousand times worse for this girl, and it was too late now, the damage was done.

Thoughts were rushing through my head so fast that I found it difficult to focus on the road ahead of me, my mind was somewhere else. It was back at the party.

Flashbacks of me on top of her clouding my concentration. The guilt of leaving so quickly was hanging heavily over me.

I wasn't one to feel guilt easily either, I'd become immune to most feelings other than sadness, but I couldn't shake her out of my mind.

And then it hit me why I felt so bad. It was because she reminded me of myself. Obviously I hadn't been in that situation, but I had been in a similar one, as a child. That day will never leave my memory, it's permanently implanted.

I approached the stop sign, but my mind was unfocused, meaning I didn't see it.

I continued driving, at the speed I was going at this entire car journey. A speed that was too fast.

I pulled myself out off my thoughts, finally, but I was too late.

Before I had time to process what was happening, I hit the car driving across.

I didn't remember much seconds before hitting it, but there was something that I just couldn't shake. And that was how just before colliding, the flashlights had reflected the eye colour of the man driving.

My eyes had connected with a pair of green eyes which were all too familiar, and there was nothing I could do but slam the breaks and watch the car I'd hit roll over and over...


	7. Chapter 7

Shock was the only way to describe how I felt in this moment. I shook my head as I tried to regain my breath.

There was no way that the person I had just crashed into could be who I thought it was. Right?

Before I could get further into my thoughts, the sound of my phone ringing brought me back to reality. I checked the caller id and groaned, it was Zayn. I knew there and then that he would kill me. I declined the call, enjoying the distant hum in my ears from the engine that was still running.

Still running?

I was pulled out of my thoughts again almost as quickly as I'd gone into them. I was a terrible person. I had caused a car accident and instead of checking on the person that I'd hit, I had began day dreaming. All of a sudden unbuckling my seatbelt didn't seem as big of a task as it had felt before entering the party.

I swung the door open and stumbled over my own legs as I attempted to get out of the car as quickly as possible. Guilt was already rushing through my veins, clouding my thoughts as I headed towards the accident that was only about 10 feet away from me.

The car I had hit was a mess, it was a black bmw which if it wasn't for the situation, I would admire. However, it was on its side propped up against an old tree that it must've hit. The hood of the car was bent inwards, and the side of the car that I could see was badly indented. I could only hope that my insurance would cover this.

Was that an insensitive thought to have?

As I walked further towards the car I noticed that the drivers seat was on the side that was facing the ground. Knowing that I would be unable to lift the car myself I called 999, and hoped that the ambulances and whatever else they bought would be able to sort out this mess. The fact that I was put on hold was ridiculous. Like for all I know the man in there could be dying or something. When I was finally put through to the lady on the receiving end, I struggled to keep my expression neutral as I explained the details. On the inside, the panic I felt was nauseating.

They assured me that they would be here as soon as possible and told me to avoid the passenger. Considering that no one knew the extent of his injuries at this point, it was possible that movement could damage the man further.

The mans car was silent, too silent. I was not smart by any means but I knew that that was not a good sign. Surely the green eyed driver would've made some effort to communicate by now.

Nothing. No sounds. No movements.

"Hello," I called out. But there was no answer.  
"You alright in there mate?" Still no answer. Have I killed him? God I hope not, I can't even begin to imagine what I would do with myself if that were the case.

Even at the thought of that, my eyes prickled with tears that threatened to expose my tough exterior. I attempted to look at the driver, to see if he was okay, but of fucking course the windows were tinted. I considered smashing them but honestly, was I really willing to spend even more money than necessary trying to cover the costs of this stupid wreck?

The wait for the ambulance was taking far too long, my body was twitching with impatience. I went back to Zayn's car in search for something to calm me down. I had been free from the cancer causing sticks for months now, and my lungs thanked me for it. But the idea was all too tempting. I needed something to calm my nerves, and nicotine was a temporary fix, one which I much needed.

Putting the Marlboro packet into my back pocket, alongside a lighter, I began to make my way back towards the wreck. I sat on the curb, placing the cigarette in between my lips. I had never liked my lips, they were too thin. I remember always being jealous of people who had naturally plump lips. Especially the plump lips on the face that had caused me so much pain long ago.

Without further hesitation, I swiped my finger in a fast motion over the lighter, the flame bursting to life. My hand guarded the fire from the wind and I took a deep inhale, smoke filling every crevice of my lungs.

The nicotine seeped through my veins, calming me with every drag I took. I flicked the ashes from it and watched as they scattered to the ground, the same way my heart had at the age of 12.

Blue lights and sirens pulled me back to reality. I immediately got up from the curb, throwing the cigarette to the ground and extinguishing it with my foot. I jogged towards the paramedics, who were talking in a rushed manner to each other, wasting no time in getting to the wrecked vehicle.

"Is he alright?" I questioned one of them, even though I already knew that there was no possible way that they could know, considering that they had just arrived.

The paramedic had red short hair and a beard to match, he seemed rude but when he gave me a pat on the shoulder and an unsure smile I knew that that was not the case.

"It's too early to tell," he told me but then continued with, "I suggest you call a family member or friend and let them know the situation. We will try and keep you as updated as possible on how he is doing," he sighed, "But for the meantime just try to stay calm."

Before I could thank him, my phone was vibrating again. I quickly glanced at the screen and saw that it was Zayn, again. Knowing that I couldn't ignore him forever, I groaned and picked up.

"Louis where the hell have you been?!" Zayn's voice although intended to be angry, portrayed nothing more than worry.

"I-uh-why?" I questioned, my eyebrow raising automatically, a habit I had yet to break.

"Are you okay? Why didn't you call me when you got in? I've been so worried, Perrie and I were just about to drive to your apartment." He sighed and I could picture Zayn pacing around the room, hand on his head.

"Zayn.."

"Louis I swear to god, tell me you're okay!" I hated getting him angry because I knew that Zayn cared so much for the little boy who had been broken from such a young age.

"Don't kill me," I breathed out, adding a small laugh at the end in order to lighten the tone.

"My car, you've ruined my fucking car haven't you?" to be honest, it was no surprise to me that Zayn had figured it out so quickly considering it was the thing he seemed to care about most. What did surprise me however was what followed. "I'm just glad you're okay Tommo, let me know when you get back."

I sighed with relief, "love ya, Zayn."

"Love you too mate, you fucken idiot," he laughed and hung up the phone, leaving me to return to the scene.

Not seconds later, the same red-haired paramedic from earlier who was called Ed, as far as I could tell from his badge, was approaching me.

"He's going to be okay, but he's in a bad state,"

I nodded, encouraging him to continue.

"He has a pretty bad concussion, he's lost quite a bit of blood," I gasped, causing Ed to rephrase his words, "Not enough blood for it to be an issue, don't worry. But by the looks of it we have quite a few broken bones and a couple of fractured ribs on our hands. He's being put on oxygen as we speak, in order to decrease the difficulty of breathing."

This was all too much for me. I never understood the expression "colour draining from a face" until now. So much pain that I had caused to another, and yet I had literally come out unharmed. 

I took a deep breath, and swallowed the acid that I could feel rising to my throat, "May I see him? Is he conscious?" I asked.

"Yes he is conscious, however considering the fact that you are not family, I am afraid that it is not the best idea for you to see him." Ed recited, although it was clear to see that there was a level of underlying sympathy.

I knew it was stupid to be so hell bent on seeing a stranger, but I just had to see for myself that he was okay. I felt it my duty to apologise in person, as well as to offer any help that I could towards his recovery.

"It'll only be a second I promise, I just feel so bloody guilty mate," I pleaded, putting on my best puppy face.

"Okay, Shit fine. Just be quick," Ed shook his head in disbelief that he had been so easily swayed, but I just laughed and followed his step towards the ambulance. Ed and his colleagues muttered backwards and forwards to eachother for a few seconds, most likely about allowing a stranger to see another stranger in an ambulance.

However, they soon proceeded to open the back door, allowing me access into the vehicle. The first thing I noticed was a stretcher, which was surrounded by all sorts of IV drips, as well as an oxygen tank. I was unsure if it was all necessary but decided to trust that the paramedics knew what they were doing.

I closed my eyes for a moment, as I walked towards the stretcher, scared to face the injuries that I had caused. I heard a rustle beneath me, coming from the stretcher, but I decided that I still wasn't ready to look at my consequences in the eyes.

"Lou?" The slow, rich voice which had haunted my mind filled my ears. I slowly opened my eyes, facing the man in the stretcher.

My breath hitched in my throat, as I took in the image in front of me. The boy, no older than me, held his oxygen mask in one hand, slightly away from his face, allowing room for my name to escape his lips. The same brown curls laid at his neck, creating an imaginary halo. The same piercing eyes stared back at me.

Blue met green again after all these years.

"Harry." Was all that I managed to say, as I watched a tear fall from his eyes.


	8. Chapter 8

HARRY POV

"Harry."

I managed to make out the voice that was no more than a whisper. And although it was a distant sound through the ringing in my ears and the pain in my head, it was clearer to me than any voice I'd ever heard.

The sweet, high-pitched yet raspy voice echoed through my mind. Before I knew it, my hand released the grip it had held on the oxygen mask, snapping it back into place. The figure infront of me began to blur into nothing before my very eyes, my body slipping deeper and deeper into the dark fate that awaited me. Blue eyes lingered behind my vision. My eyes flickered once more before finally shutting, leaving me surrounded in a black void.

~

I woke to a throbbing sensation in my forehead. With every breath I took it felt like I was underwater, struggling to break the surface. Bandages were tightly wrapped around almost every inch of my body, leaving me mummified. My eyes finally opened. The room around me was white and it was blinding, the smell that filled my nostrils, left a burn in its trace. It was disinfectant. This was a place that I had grown all too familiar with.

The hospital.

What was I doing here this time? Last night was a blur. The last thing that I remember being the way my breath hitched as my head smashed against the steering wheel. Other than that, I remember nothing but darkness.

A ruffle was heard across the room as I struggled to move my body into a position that was capable of seeing who or what that noise was.

"Shit! Sorry Harry, I didn't mean to wake you." The voice spoke.

"It's okay, Niall." I managed to breathe out. My attempt at words was painful. Fuck. I can only hope that I feel and look worse than I actually am.

Niall rushed over to me, his eyes glossy with tears, "No Harry you don't understand. This is all m-my fault."

I shook my head to reassure him that it wasn't. How could it possibly be?

"It is, it really is. I shouldn't have asked you to pick me up from that party. I should've had more patience and not texted you, y-you must've crashed answering my message." He sighed and I truly felt bad for the blonde boy. "What else could've caused this? It was me, there's no other explanation. I'm sorry Harry I'll make it up to you. Do you want money? I don't have much but I can find a way to get it. I'm never going to forgive myself for this." He rambled, pulling his hair in frustration. I couldn't help but laugh.

"Niall, this is not your fault." I began, searching his features and waiting for some sort of realisation to hit him, but it didn't, the poor boy honestly believed that this was his fault. "Do you honestly think my world revolves around you? No offence mate." I let out another laugh, as much as it hurt my body to do so. "It wasn't you who I was replying to, you Irish noodle, some unknown number called me and as I went to pick up, I lost concentration of the road. That's it. So unless you have some kind of trap phone I'm unaware of, I'm pretty sure it had nothing to do with you." I gave him a week smile and ushered him to sit down on the edge of the bed.

"You have no idea how much you've worried Anne, she loves you so much, you know that right?" I sighed at the mention of her, she's the one that's managed to keep me grounded throughout all of this. The death of Robin hit us all hard, he was such a caring man and not a day goes by where I don't miss him. But somehow she managed to keep strong for me, and I will be forever grateful for that, because without her I don't think I would've been able to mourn the loss of my father.

"Where is she?" I spoke.

"She went home to get some rest, along with Erika. That's when they called me. I guess they didn't want you to wake up alone huh?" He grinned. My best friend never fails to brighten my mood. "Pretty shit girlfriend though if you ask me."

"What?" I said, my tone of voice now serious.

"I mean, she's at home doing god knows what and instead I'm left here to look after you." Once seeing that my expression had yet to change, he continued. "I mean don't get me wrong I love you and all that but I mean, I might as well be your boyfriend." He laughed, a real laugh. The type were Niall knocks his head back and no one can control the horse like noises that come out of it. The laugh was contagious, and soon I found my self gasping for air with my cheeks aching.

"Niall mate don't get me wrong you're a good looking lad and all but I could never swing that way." I continued his joke.

"What?" He gasped dramatically, falling to the ground with a hand clutching his chest. "I thought you were gay? Don't break my heart like this Harold. I thought you loved me?" He pretended to wipe away a tear in between giggles. This idiot is my best friend, I wonder myself how I cope sometimes.

"Yeah to be fair, sleeping with girls seems pretty gay to me." I winked, clearly referring to Erika.

"You're cheating on me?"

I laughed, "Jesus Niall, shut up."

A cough from the door interrupted us. A man in his early thirties walked in, holding a clipboard. He was wearing surgical scrubs and carried a stethoscope around his neck.

"Harry Styles is it?" He said not breaking the glance he had on his clipboard.

"Errr, yes. Is everything okay?" I replied, slightly too eager to see what he had to say.

"Well, from the tests that we've done you're going to be just fine. You'll have to come in for monthly check ups to make sure that there is no internal bleeding or anything of that matter considering you hit your head quite hard." At internal bleeding I spaced out. Was it really that serious that I would have to spend the rest of my life worrying whether or not I was going to be okay? Damn that random caller! I can't be too quick to blame anyone though, it was my fault, just as everything else seems to be. I should've been there for Robin throughout his chemo but I couldn't. I couldn't bring myself to face that level of pain, although it must've been nothing compared to the pain that he felt. Anne was comforting me when Robin passed, she should've been comforting him. How could I be so selfish? The man that had raised me, the man that I considered my father, died feeling unloved. And it will forever be my biggest mistake.

"Are you listening to me?" The voice of the Doctor shattered my thoughts. I blinked back the small amount of tears that had built up at the thought of my father.

"No." I replied quietly. "Sorry."

"It's okay." He tapped my shoulder, probably in an attempt to calm me down, but it held no emotion behind it. Then again why would I except emotions from a man who was just doing his job? "You have two fractured ribs, bruising will take 2-4 weeks to go down and they should be completely healed in 4-6 weeks, although some discomfort afterwards is expected. Coughing and an increase in phlegm is also normal. Take pain killers as advised, and try to keep mobile as it will help you keep a clear chest. However, avoid any major exercise and make sure to get plenty of rest." He sighed before continuing, "No other broken bones. However, we will prescribe you with some ointment that will help in healing your wounds. You will be required to stay here until tomorrow."

"Yeah okay that's fine, thank you."

"Any questions?" The Doctor asked, keeping the same blank expression that he had held the entire time he was here.

"No, no it's okay. Thank you."

And with that he left. The room was no longer light and filled with laughter as it had been before. It was tense and quite frankly suffocating.

Niall was the first to break the silence, a small smile played on his face, "Guess you wont be receiving any Nialler Hugs till you're all healed up babes."

I shook my head in disbelief, "Niall how many bloody times have I told you not to call me that, is Amelie not pleasing you or some shit?" At the mention of his girlfriend his eyes lit up. It was refreshing to see how much they liked each other, it made me long for something similar. Don't get me wrong I love Erika, but it's not as sweet and fluffy as Niall and Amelie's relationship is. Ours seems kind of, I don't know...forced.

"Oh my god with all this," he motions to me and the room that surrounded us, "I forgot to tell you that Amelie asked me to meet her parents! Harry you have to help me! Please, what do I do? How do I act? I've never had to meet my girlfriends parents, I mean technically she's my first girlfriend bu-,"

I cut him off before he could continue with his torturous rambling, "Niall, babes," I said putting emphasis on the last word, "Just be your normal charming self and they'll love you. You can even borrow a couple of my jokes if you want?"

Niall stared at me as if I'd grown four eyes, "Your jokes? Are you crazy? Do you want me to be the laughing stock of their family for the rest of my life? Your jokes suck serious ass Harry."

"Hey!" I said slightly offended, "My jokes are great!"

"Go on then," he said, allowing me time to think of one of the many jokes I had memorised.

Here goes nothing, "Okay, why was the broom late to the meeting?"

"I don't know Harry, why was the broom late to the meeting?"

"It overswept!" I let out a cackle, muffling the rest of my laughs with my hand.

"That was truly terrible Harry." Niall spoke, but it was clear to see the amusement in his eyes.

"I thought it was quite funny," A familiar voice spoke behind Niall.

"Erikaaaa!" I said in excitement, trying to find a way to get out of the bed in order to give her a hug. However, it was an impossible task as I quickly realised, wincing in pain.

Erika's sweet voice filled my ears as she came closer, "Aw Harry are you okay?" She asked, truly concerned.

"Yeah I just missed you, that's all," I said feeling a slight blush creep into my cheeks.

And with that Erika leaned down to kiss me, a sweet innocent kiss that for some reason didn't leave me wanting more. It didn't catch my breath, and it didn't cause me to have butterflies. But it should have.


	9. Chapter 9

LOUIS POV

It's been three days. Three days of convincing myself that it was a dream. Three days of convincing myself that seeing him that vulnerable didn't break my heart all over again.

I know deep in my mind that I should've gone to the hospital with him, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Because of my stupid actions, I was left with a hefty bill and a bunch of reopened childhood scars.

-

"Loueh mate. You know, unless you go prostituting yourself to old ladies, you're going to have to get a job. I mean let's be honest, I ain't paying for the damage of that stupid car accident." Zayn spoke. And although it irritated me to agree with him, I had to admit that he was right. I couldn't expect him to pay for my actions, for once in my life, I had to take matters into my own hands.

"Err yeah, I don't know about you, but I'm going to stay well away from wrinkly vaginas for the time being." I decided to reply to his prostitution comment, not allowing him to see that for once he was correct.

"Hey, don't knock it 'till you try it." He smirked. The thought of that alone made vomit rise to the back of my throat.

I sighed, letting out a small laugh, "Thing is Zayn, I cant even tell if you're joking."

He shook his head in disbelief before saying, "Of course I'm joking you nonce. Anyways, I could probably get you a job at the Café that Perrie works at. Nice little place, all homey and shit."

"If I'm made to wear a suit to the interview you better know I'm not even gonna set foot in that place." Zayn knew me well enough to know that I'd rather die than be seen in something so atrocious.

"No suit, and no qualifications needed surprisingly." He paused before continuing, "Perfect for someone of your brain capacity."

I nudged him in the ribs with my elbow causing him to groan over in pain, laughs escaping his perfect mouth. Perfect mouth? Oh god. I shook the thoughts out of my head before they could get too far, "Ha Ha, ever considered a job as a comedian?" I said, sarcasm dripping from my words.

"Lou, you know I'm only messing with ya." He smiled, and I smiled. And for a brief moment I forgot about everything that mattered. "Get yourself sorted out, and I'll give Perrie a ring."

I nodded in agreement and headed to my bedroom, away from the living room that held the Bradford boy. As I reached the door I felt a vibration in my pocket. I lifted the screen of my phone as the glow revealed that it was a message from Stan asking me to ring him. What the hell?

However, I brushed the confusion aside and decided to do what the boy had asked. He picked up almost immediately.

"Louis? Are you alright mate?" The voice flowing through the speaker sounded urgent, worried even.

"Err yeah, I mean why exactly did you want to talk? No offence or anything." I paused, trying to figure out a way to put across my words, "I just haven't heard from you much since we finished school, and even then we weren't that close let's be honest." I ended up coming across as rude, but flashbacks of him pinning me up against the wall on my first day at the new school clouded my mind. If it hadn't been for Zayn and Liam I dread to think what would've happened. Stan ended up growing on me, but even so it wasn't much. He had short brown hair and his smile wasn't contagious, his eyes held no light behind them and it always left me wondering what had caused that?

"Yeah, yeah but I heard about the accident."

"From who?" I asked, frowning.

The silence on the other line went on for a second too long, "Zayn."

For some reason I decided not to question it, unlike me and Stan, Zayn had kept contact with him and so it didn't surprise me that it came up in conversation.

"Fair enough, yeah I'm fine. Thanks for the concern." I sounded bitter, and I was. It proved my point exactly. My point being that people only seemed to care once it was too late. And yes I had come out physically unharmed, but mentally... I had not.

"Maybe, u-uh you wanna hang out tomorrow or something?" He sounded nervous, and that only added to my confusion.

"I'm busy, I can't sorry." I said, hanging up hastily. I had no time for fake friendships, especially considering my time now had to be spent on a job.

I walked over to my bed, groaning as I sat down. My body ached, which was no surprise really. I reached over to my bedside drawer, pulling out the thing that kept my deepest secrets.

My journal.

It was something I used whenever I was feeling down, something to express the way I truly felt without fear of judgment. But the thing I refused to do was read over it; I couldn't bring myself to relive the majority of my memories and feelings that were scrawled over the pages.

I pulled out a pen alongside it, and began writing. Getting lost in the emotions. Words wrote themselves, tears fell freely. And finally, I felt as if I could breathe again. I wrote about the feeling in my chest, the feeling of a broken heart which had yet to be fixed; and perhaps never could. As I laid down the final word on the page, Zayn walked in, giving the journal a questioning glance. However, he didn't mention it. He didn't mention the way my eyes still brimmed with tears, the way my eyes were no longer the same bright blue, filled with happiness that they once were. And that's what I loved about him. Although he didn't express verbally that he was worried, his face held all the expressions I needed to know, that he did in fact care.

Zayn cleared his voice, trying his best to remove the frown that was etched onto his face, "Perrie said she could get you an interview tomorrow." He gave me a proud but quick hug, "I'm heading out, family night and all. You know how it is."

I gave him a smile, assuring him that I knew exactly what he meant. I loved Zayn's family. They were all so caring and loving of him and I knew that they would be there for him no matter what. I wished for a love like that, a love that I had never received from my own parents, or from anyone for that matter. And I could just hope that maybe, just maybe one day I could know what it felt to be loved like that. A love so pure and unconditional. The thought alone made me slightly happier, hopeful even.

"Get some rest lad, you look shattered." He laughed before pulling me in for once last hug and ruffling my hair.

"Your compliments never fail to flatter me." With that he laughed, and made his own way out of my apartment.

Leaving me alone once again, with nothing but my thoughts.


	10. Chapter 10

HARRY POV

I felt the bed rise beside me, indicating that Erika was now awake. I sighed, remembering the tension between us.

Since I got released from the hospital a couple of days ago, she hasn't spoken to me much. Whenever words are exchanged, they're short and filled with no emotion.

I kept trying to pin-point the section in my mind with any illustration as to what I had done, but each time I came back blank.

However, it was clearly having an effect on the woman that I apparently loved. And so for that reason, I made it my mission to reach the root of the problem and pull it out, before it could fester.

The duvet exposed my chest slightly as I sat up, the breeze causing goosebumps to spread like wildfire on my pale skin.

"Erika." I said, morning voice evident, glancing over to where she now stood at the foot of our bed.

She looked over for a brief moment before continuing to pick up the clothes that were scattered around the room, "Yes Harry?" Her voice came across as agitated, it wasn't laced in sweetness like it usually was.

My eyes met hers for a brief moment before I looked away, nervous all of the sudden, "Can we u-uh maybe, I don't know, maybe talk?" I motioned for her to sit next to me, but she shook her head instantly.

"I can't really talk now," She sighed, pulling a strand of her hair behind her ear, "I have a meeting to get to." She continued pacing around the room, now stuffing necessities into her handbag in a rushed manner.

I looked up at her in confusion, "A meeting, for what?" I questioned, before looking back down, rubbing the back of my neck nervously.

"You see Harry," She took a deep breath, as if she were having an internal battle with herself on how to word the next sentence, "Maybe if you hadn't been so focused on your own pain, you would've remembered that I was fired, and that I in fact have a meeting to try and get me into a new modelling agency." Her bitter voice rang through my ears, but her tone of voice stayed soft, causing a shiver to creep up my spine.

I began to conjure up scenarios in my mind as to why she had been fired, however I came back with nothing. As far as I could remember she was sweet, hardworking and loyal. Then again I wasn't sure if I could trust my mind at this moment in time.

An unknown emotion then spread throughout my features. I would've remembered something that important, I'm sure of it. But I didn't. And it left me wondering what else I had forgotten.

"When did this happen, babe?" I asked. Not only had I been genuinely curious, but I was attempting to spark realisation in my memory to remember something...anything along the lines of Erika's job. But the spark in my head never lit.

"Last week," She ran her hand over her head in frustration, "How could you forget?" She sighed before continuing, not seeming angry, just disappointed. She shook her head once more for emphasis, "Really goes to show how much you care about me." Her voice trailed off at the end, a level of underlying guilt surfacing.

Our eyes met once again, and her's depicted a look of hurt. It was an expression that I'd grown all too familiar with causing.

"Erika I do care, so much," I began, not knowing where I was going with the conversation, "I honestly can't remember much other than the accident itself. I feel as if there's pieces of my memory missing. It's irritating for me, but I know it must be nothing compared to how you feel. I can only hope that this is temporary, not only for my sake, but for our sake. I just need to figure out what those memories are. Whether they're simple things with little relevance, or things of great significance; life changing things." I felt my eyes sting after my declaration, but I blinked back the evidence before it was even there.

"It's okay Harry, I understand. I do. You hit your head, hard, and I can't blame you for memory loss, it's normal. This is just difficult for me," She paused before continuing, "And I don't really know how to act around you anymore."

I knew what she was implying, but I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't let her get away. The words that came out of her mouth were exaggerated, it was clear to see that she was over-reacting. She acted as if forgetting a couple of minor details in my life changed me as a person.

They didn't... did they?

And that was when I took into account how I was feeling inside. Since the accident I felt as if an imaginary weight had been lifted off of my shoulders. I no longer felt an emotional pain that was soul crushing within me. But at the same time my body missed that weight, it burned a hole in my heart and every cell in my body ached for that feeling to come back. I didn't know what that feeling was, or to what memory that feeling linked back to. And that in itself, was far more soul crushing than being aware of the cause.

"Erika please," I begged, "Please don't give up on us."

She smiled, but it was filled with sadness, "Of course not," She averted her gaze from mine, "I just need some time for you to remember us. It's important to me. Do you even remember how me met? Our first date?" Hope filled her features for a brief moment.

I scanned my brain for any trace of the memory, but I came up with nothing. "Uh-I, sorry," I struggled to get my words across. The hope in her features visibly shattered. I was so angry at myself for forgetting something so simple. Erika was one of the only things that I had left, and with every passing moment she was slipping further and further away from my grasp.

I may not remember the things that she deemed important, but I remember her being there for me through Robins death. She would stay by my side when I was too haunted by my own thoughts to even sleep. She would make me food, even though I'd refuse it. She sat by me as I watched Titanic on repeat, wiping away the tears that would form in my eyes. She would run her fingers through my hair, repeating how much she loved me over and over. She loved me, and I couldn't even remember how to love.

I had to learn again, if not for her, for someone.

She glanced at her watch. It was filled with crystals and represented her perfectly, "We can talk about this later, I really need to get going," Erika gave me an apologetic look before turning to the mirror that was situated by the door.

I watched as she added pins to her hair and added a final layer of lipstick. She was beautiful, and I knew that I had to make the effort if I wanted things to work. But I wasn't sure if I had the energy to make the effort.

"What time does the meeting end?" I asked.

"It should finish at around 1:30pm." She replied, not paying much attention to me. Only answering because she felt it a necessity to do so.

"I could pick you up then, and u-uh we could catch some lunch if you'd like?"

"Yeah that's fine babe," She turned to give me a small smile, "I'll let you know." Erika made her way over to the bed before leaning down to give me a chaste kiss. It was filled with nothing, no emotion, no love.

She walked over to the door, giving me one last glance before leaving. I had two hours to prepare for this, and I was going to make sure that I won her affection back, I just wasn't sure how.


	11. Chapter 11

LOUIS POV

I threw my phone across the room as if that would cancel the persistent noise of the alarm.

It didn't of course.

A groan slipped from my lips, as I struggled to make my way across the room to where my phone continued to lay, and continued to ring, pouting as if anyone could see me.

I swiped my finger across the screen in order to stop the alarm, checking the time as I did so, as well as inspecting any damage I may have caused the screen. Then again, it was already shattered from all of the accidental drops that I seemed prone to, so I shrugged it off.

It was 11:00am. I forced out a sarcastic laugh similar to that of an insane person as I realised that I would actually have to change my sleeping schedule. No more 2pm lie-ins for me.

I ran my fingers through my hair as I set the phone back down on my bedside table. I looked around my room, sighing as I took in the view of half finished plates of food and dirty clothes that had yet to be washed. It was honestly quite a disgusting sight, yet both Liam and Zayn had grown used to my untidy ways and therefore, the mess didn't bother me. Besides, they were the only visitors I ever had.

I padded over to my wardrobe, tossing aside the majority of my clothes and fishing out a random white button-up which I would pair with some black jeans. I decided to play it safe for the interview. Even though Zayn had mentioned that there wasn't really a dress code, I realised that first impressions mattered, and I really needed this job.

I took the outfit with me to the bathroom and hung it to the side for later.

I made my way back towards the kitchen, tripping on a miscellaneous object, "Fuck-Shit-Cunt!" I blurted as I regained my composure, a light blush spreading up my cheeks, relieved that no one was around to see me stack it.

I once again ran my hand through my hair, pulling it away from my eyes, which in turn reminded me that I was overdue a haircut. My stomach created an inhumane noise within itself, urging me to pick up the pase on the breakfast making.

I decided on pancakes, and therefore made a beeline to the fridge to get out the eggs and milk. As I opened the fridge door, I both mentally and physically facepalmed. There was nothing other than a couple of condiments inside, the empty reflection of the fridge mocking me.

I slammed the door a little harder than intended, what was left of the contents inside rattling in disagreement.

I pondered for a few minutes on what I should eat, as I searched the cabinets surrounding the area. The best I could find was a half-empty box of cereal, but it would do.

A noise of annoyance left my lips, remembering that there was no milk from when I'd checked the fridge earlier. Everything seemed to be going wrong and for some particular reason I doubted that this would be the extent of it.

I grabbed one of the few remaining bowls from the shelf, knowing that the rest of them were scattered around my room. I realised that I'd have to get my act - both literally and figuratively - cleaned up, if I wanted to even begin to take life seriously.

Clean environment, clean mind, right?

With that, I made a mental note to clean up the place when I finished work; that was if I even got the job in the first place.

I placed the bowl on the counter, not wanting to waste the little time I had left in sitting down at the table and enjoying it. I grabbed a spoon from the drawer that was situated by the sink and poured the remaining amount of cereal into the bowl.

I cringed as I took in the first mouthful, hating the way that the dry breakfast sucked the moisture from my mouth.

However, I didn't have the time to complain, and therefore the only solution was to shove the food down my throat before my taste buds could process the flavour.

For once in my life, I embraced the new mind set, placing the now empty bowl into the sink to wash up later.

I retraced my earlier steps back towards the bathroom, glancing around at the photo frames in the hallway as I did so.

My eyes found themselves looking at one in particular, one which I avoided but couldn't find it in me to burn.

The photo consisted of a woman and a child. The child had brown hair, a toothy grin as bright as the sun, and piercing blue eyes. The eyes were full to the brim with life and held a light so bright that it seemed it would never burn out, but it did, and now they were as dull as his lifeless routine.

The woman's gaze on the child reflected so much love that it was almost sickening. The skin around her eyes crinkled in happiness, a trait which the boy would later be found to have.

It was clear to see the boy had such a good outlook on life, no true idea on what was to come. No idea the pain that people could cause, the internal battle to tell themselves 'just one more day, you can do it.'

The boy was me, and the woman was my mother; if I can even call her that.

With one last lingering glance at the frame, I turned on my heels, promising myself to never look at it again. I swallowed the lump that was forming in my throat, and continued about getting ready.

I reached the bathroom at last after what had felt like hours but in reality had only taken a few minutes. I walked over to the window, opening it. The cold breeze engulfed my skin, a shiver racking across my body in response. My eyes fixed themselves on the rain that plummeted to the ground outside, my fingers lightly tracing the droplets that slid down the window.

I breathed deeply, allowing the fresh air to fill my lungs, knocking me back to reality.

I stepped into the shower, wanting to take the final minutes of freedom that I had to relax.

I began to lather the vanilla scented soap over me, blocking out any thoughts from entering my mind. Now was not the time.

I finished up fairly quickly, not wanting to spend anymore time than necessary. I couldn't afford to be late, my interview was at 12:00pm.

I stepped into one of the towels that was hung up, spending no time in drying myself. I decided that perhaps I would leave my hair as it was. It was a different look for sure, but it suited me; it bought a youthful look back into my appearance.

I picked up my toothbrush, adding a strip of the minty paste to it and bringing it up to my teeth. I ran the bristles around my mouth for a couple of minutes before spitting out the foamy remnants.

I opened the cabinet, pulling out the familiar box that housed my contact lenses. I used to wear glasses often, but the siblings from my foster home would always pick on me for it. And my undeveloped brain absorbed every insult it was thrown. I placed them into position, blinking once to allow the contact solution to form a single tear from each eye. I nodded in satisfaction.

I glanced at the watch that banded tightly around my wrist, displaying that it was now 12:30.

I knew that it wouldn't necessarily take longer than 10 minutes to get there, but once again, first impressions mattered. I was late to almost every single event in my life, and therefore, I was not going to let this one to slip into that category.

Thoughts of how I'd get on at the new job raced through my mind, causing a dull aching to take place in my temples. I bought my fingers up to my forehead, massaging them against the skin, begging for the tension to subside.

With no luck, I headed on to the kitchen, pulling out a drawer that as far as I was aware was filled with medical supplies. I spotted two packets of some sort of pills: paracetamol and ibuprofen, the labels read. I wasn't familiar with the differences between them, or the regulations regarding on how many to take.

I leant down to the cabinet besides my sink, pulling out a glass. I raised the glass to the faucet, allowing the cold water to fill the cup to the brim. I filled my mouth with the clear liquid, putting two of each of the different pills into my mouth, throwing my head back and swallowing them.

The bitter taste of semi-dissolved painkillers lingered at the back of my throat, creating an almost nauseating feeling.

However, I brushed that off, giving myself one last look-over in the full length mirror by the front door. I patted my pockets, ensuring that I had my phone and my keys.

I braced myself for the rain which would soon swallow me whole. I placed on my all-black converse that were situated by the door, tying them up in one swift movement.

My breathing came out uneven as I exhaled, a sign of how nervous I truly was. I brushed off those emotions however, as I attempted to do with all of the emotions I tended to feel.

And with that, I left, hoping for the best...


	12. Chapter 12

I shut the door a little too hastily behind me, attempting to calm my shaky palms. The noise of the door shutting echoed throughout the apartment complex; earning me a few dirty glances from passing neighbours.

I made my way down the stairs, taking two at a time, a habit that I was well acquainted with. By the time I had reached the bottom I was practically gasping for air. I mentally cursed the building for not having elevators.

I stepped out of the large doors that separated the worn down complex from the outside world, taking a moment to absorb my surroundings- something which I did nearly everytime I'd leave.

I found it nice to take a few moments out of my day to observe the busy rush of people as they made their way through the sardine-like packed streets of London. It left me wondering what their lives were like.

Had I just walked past someone who was grieving, a murderer or even the one who I was destined to be with?

I would never know, because I would never see them again. And it left me with the thought that perhaps if we all took those few moments of the day to take in our surroundings, if things would be different?

Better?

I took the first step away from the ledge that had covered me, being instantly met with the force of an angry downpour of rain.

I shuddered into myself, instinctively wrapping my arms around in a protective manner.

I kept my head down, not meeting the gaze of any, for I had already had the time to people watch.

The distinctive sound of 'city' filled my ears, and I shook my head, still trying to take away the ache that was spreading through my mind.

It's not that I didn't like cities; I did. I loved living here, and I'd take it over the Doncaster area that I'd grown up in, any day of the week.

But I was just in a bad mood. As simple as that really. I seemed to be in a bad mood a lot recently, and no one knew why. I myself didn't know why.

My legs, already beginning to hurt from my lack of exercise, moved coordinately towards the small café that held the chance to pay off my debts.

I had hardly noticed I'd arrived until I looked up to see the glowing sign. 'Coffee House' it read, I scoffed, how original.

I opened the door that led into the shop, ruffling my fingers through my hair in order to release some of the unwanted drops of water to the ground.

I looked around before spotting a familiar blonde behind the counter, who smiled largely at me, using her hand to usher me towards her.

I noticed that the place was pretty empty which was strange to me considering it was 12:50am.

"Hey, Perrie," I returned her smile once I'd finally made my way to where she stood, busy grinding up coffee beans.

"I assume you're here for the interview, I could do with some company," she paused before looking briefly to the blonde boy beside her. She whispered loudly, making sure he could hear, "Niall here isn't much help, he's a bit boring really."

Niall I assume, swatted Perrie lightly, bottom lip automatically sticking out in a pout, "Shut up. I'm not boring? Right? You don't actually mean that do you? Because if you do, is there like anything I could chang-" his face beginning to go red from blurting out words so fast it seemed impossible.

"Niall, chill out. I'm joking, you know we all love you. Who couldn't with a face like that?" She joked, messing up his hair with her hand in the process. He smiled at her then, as if he were a dog that had been accepted into the family.

I looked between the two with my eyebrow raised. Something must've clicked in Perrie because she shook her hair, shooting me an apologetic look, "I'm so sorry, how rude of me. Louis this is Niall, Niall this is Louis." She pointed to each of us as she said our names.

I held my hand out for Niall to shake but was taken aback when he pulled me into his embrace, "Louis meet the Nialler hug, it's my specialty." He said, pulling away with a proud smile that I couldn't help but smile back at.

"Well it's lovely to see that. Zayn wasn't joking when he said this place was homey, God damn it's like a bloody family in here." I laughed, referring to the way Niall had so quickly accepted me. I decided that I liked Niall.

"Niall is a special one, for sure." Perrie said, rolling her eyes fondly.

Niall threw his head back in laughter, "You sure you wanna work here mate?"

Louis shook his head, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, "Don't make me re-think my decision Nialler. Besides does anyone know where I'm meant to go for this thing?"

Perrie began, "Simon will be out in a second I'm sure, good luck though-"

"He's a bit of a cunt." Niall finished, giggling.

"Niall!" Perrie gasped, swatting at his shoulder.

At this point Niall was red in the face from attempting to keep his composure, "You know it's true," Niall finally finished laughing, "Louis mate honestly, you're going to need therapy once Simons finished with ya."

I rolled my eyes, but kept it light, "Oh thanks guys, real helpful for the nerves here." I said placing my hand on my chest.

Niall just laughed, which is something I found he did often and grunted out a small, "Sorry."

I found it refreshing to see the vibe that Niall gave off, it was a happy aura that left everyone feeling comfortable in his presence.

Unlike myself, who gave off the impression that I was angry at the world; which I was.

Perrie on the other hand was much more understanding, I could see why Zayn liked her, "Louis, don't worry it'll be fine. Try and keep the sass on the low down in front of him though, yeah?"

Niall scoffed, "Perrie, God, thats where you're wrong. No one can out sass me." He said, snapping his fingers in a 'Z' formation.

"You're on blondie." I spoke, knowing full well it wasn't even a subject of discussion on who would win.

"Only known each other 5 Minutes and you're already an old married couple," Perrie sighed, scanning the café to see if anyone needed anything. She looked up to the ceiling as if she were praying before saying, "Dear God, give me the strength to deal with these two man-children," she whispered, "I beg."

I gasped, pointing at myself in mock disbelief, "Me? A man child? I'm the most charming, handsome and rugged man you'll ever meet. Isn't that right?" I said, directing my question at the Irish boy.

Niall walked back over to me, patting me on the shoulder and continuing the joke, "Of course you are babes, swept me off my feet."

I cackled, "Sorry bro, but you're not my type."

He pretended to be hurt, "Did yo-you, Did you just bro-zone me? What is it? Too much junk in the downstairs area?"

Suddenly, finding the conversation slightly uncomfortable, I decided to let it not show by releasing an airy laugh, "Could say that, yeah."

Luckily, the two employees didn't notice the blood rushing to my cheeks, nor the way my light attitude had quietened slightly.

The awkwardness on my behalf was cut short when a man in sunglasses and a suit walked through the front door and waltzed directly to me. Niall and Perrie froze for a moment, before rushing straight to work like headless chickens and putting on their best behaviour for the customers who were now finally beginning to arrive.

He held his hand out, and shook mine in a firm grip, "Tomlinson, I'm Mr Cowell. You can call me Simon. If you'd like to follow me to my office," he pointed to a door that was situated behind the counter, "We can get started with the interview."


	13. Chapter 13

I shrugged, looking towards Perrie and Niall for a quick reassurance. They both sent me a thumbs up in my direction accompanied by a 'good luck' grin.

"Sure." I said to Simon, a fake smile coating my lips, which he returned in an equally fake manner.

He opened the latch at the side of the counter, allowing us access behind it. Nerves were rushing through my body at a million miles an hour as I attempted desperately to even-out my breathing.

I slipped my small body through the doorway that led into a room with an oak table and two black cushioned chairs at either side of it.

The sight was very cliche, I half expected the all white wall to be an opening revealing the New York City line, before I remembered that we were in fact in London, and not that nice of an area at that.

Simon walked around to the seat facing the door before gesturing at the chair opposite him and saying lowly, "Take a seat."

I nodded quickly, not wanting to keep the man waiting, he seemed fairly busy. I pulled out the chair but winced when it scraped against the polished hardwood floor.

I took my seat and rested my chin on my hands, my knee bouncing up and down in anticipation. It must've been a very unprofessional sight, but surely he had to have seen worse. I mean he hired Niall, and I don't know him well, but from what I can tell, he's the furthest thing from professionalism.

Simon followed suit in taking a seat, scanning me up and down with his eyebrow raised. I squirmed, feeling exposed under his watchful eye.

His eyes finally locked with mine, him being the first to break the silence, which was understandable really, "So, Louis," he paused, looking down at the sheets of paper that were splayed out in an orderly fashion in front of him, "What brings you here?"

I swallowed, looking awkwardly down at my hands which were now in front of me, fiddling, "Erm... I was looking for a job and my friend Zayn recommended I look here?" The statement left my mouth as a question.

Simon nodded, "Zayn, lovely lad he is."

It was now my turn to furrow my brows in confusion, "You know Zayn?"

"Well of course. He's a regular. I find it very important to connect with the customers on a personal level, to the best of my ability, without it becoming unprofessional." He spoke out, as if it were first nature to him.

"Oh yeah, that's fair enough actually." I replied, gaining a slight confidence with each sentence I spoke. However, I was certain that I'd never feel comfortable around the man, for he was very intimidating to say the least.

He averted the subject back to its origins, "Louis, what do you think you can bring to the job?"

I ran my hand through my hair, thinking of an answer that would compliment the question, "I'm hardworking, I'm hardly ever late," I just hoped that Simon couldn't see through my little white lies, "I'm very friendly toward everyone, and I make good tea?"

He laughed at that, a clear rarity for him considering he covered it up with a cough and straightened out his collar almost immediately.

"That's good to hear Louis, and I wasn't given a CV, so would you like to tell me what qualifications you have?" He spoke, slipping easily back into his work-driven ways.

Qualifications? Damn Zayn!

"Ermm, I have 6 GCSE's all at a C grade." For once in my life I was thankful that I had paid some level of attention at school.

"Okay, and what are those in?" He pressed.

"Maths, English Language and English literature, History, Art and Music." I recited. As sad as it was, one of my greatest achievements was passing Maths, even if I had re-sat the exam 3 times beforehand.

"That's good," he hummed, "The only ones we really take interest in are Maths and English, as with most minimum wage jobs."

Well at least he was honest.

"Any A-levels?" Crap.

I felt the heat rushing up to my cheeks, "Erm n-no. Is that a p-problem Sir?" I managed to stutter out, worry instantly began flowing through me once more.

"No, not at all. Just like to see what we're working with really." The sincerity in his voice clear.

I nodded in relief.

"You obviously have visible tattoos," he spoke out, referring to the "28" that was present on my knuckles, "but luckily for you, we aren't too strict on that policy here. So long as it's not offensive to the consumers of course," he paused briefly, "Any Nazi symbols or anything of that sort that I need to be made aware of?"

I choked on my own saliva, shaking my head quickly, "W-what? Of course not. Er-erm I'm not that kinda guy." To say I felt uncomfortable at the accusation would be an understatement.

Simon let out a deep laugh once more, this time not making any attempt in covering it up, "I'm just messing with you. Besides, even if you did it's none of my business what activities you take part in outside of the work place. Unless it were to bring serious harm to the buisness."

I still couldn't tell if he were joking, "And Nazi symbols don't bring serious harm to the workplace? No offence, but are you joking?"

A smile tugged at the corner of his aged lips, "Yes I am joking, we do not tolerate any racist or discriminative behaviour of any sort at the café. I was referring more to your sexuality."

I choked once again, "M-my sexuality?" I was confused as to what he meant, considering literally no one knew or questioned it, other than the girl from that party a while back, but she was irrelevant.

"Louis, I'm not blind. In fact I'm very observant. It's not an issue though," he lent across the desk in order to reassuringly pat my shoulder, "Your secrets safe with me."

"O-Okay, thank you, I guess."

"No problem. Now if you'd just like to wait outside with the other two employees, I can come out in a short while and give you my decision," he spoke, as if it were almost scripted, "Unless you'd like to leave and I can get back to you via a phone call."

I shook my head, "No, no. I'll wait. Thank you for your time Sir." He nodded, uttering that it was no problem. He gestured to the door that led back into the café, implying that I made my own way out.

Once I was out of the room I let out a breath that I didn't realise I had been holding, shoulders slumping automatically along with it.

Niall was quick to see me and rushed over from where he had just finished taking the customers orders. "How did it go Louis?" He questioned, concern dripping from his tone.

I traced my finger over the outline of one of my tattoos, not wanting to meet his gaze, "It went decently, I suppose. I made him laugh a couple of times I guess."

Niall gasped then, "Perrie! Get over here!"

She held up her finger, signalling for Niall to wait a moment. Niall began muttering, mumbling out incoherent words and pulling at the strands of his bleach blonde hair.

"Niall, seriously, what has gotten into you?" I asked, finally averting my eyes from my inked skin.

"You'll see," he whispered, before shouting, "PERRIE! NOW!"

I jumped slightly at the change in tone coming from the Irish boys mouth.

"I'm coming, Jesus. Ever heard of a little patience? Especially when we are on the job, and especially when Simon is here." She grunted out, as she finally made her way over to put the boy out of his misery, mine too.

"Perrie," He navigated his mouth to her ear in order to whisper something. I watched her expression change from disbelief, to shock, to fear and to finally... pride?

She coughed, placing one hand on her chest, and the other on my shoulder, "Simon laughed?" She spoke as if it were a miracle sent from heaven.

"Erm.. yes. And?" Confusion laced the syllables falling from my mouth.

"There's only one reason behind this Niall," Perrie looked over to him, as if she were asking for permission to continue.

The boy nodded, a smile threatening to break through, "Mr. Cowell is in love with you."

I choked at that, not able to stop the coughs that racked my lungs, "W-what?!" I managed to get out, in between trying to regain my breath.

Perrie spoke, looking sympathetic, "Louis," her voice soft and edged with concern, "It's the only possible explanation."

Niall jumped up, shoving Perrie in the ribs to quieten down. We both whipped around to see what Niall was panicking about, only to be met with the same suited man from the interview.

Perrie made an inhuman noise, whereas I cringed, hoping that the two employees had seriously misjudged their predictions.

He looked between the three of us in an amused manner, "Louis, may I have a word please."

Perrie shoved me forward, whilst Niall was just muttering out 'oh my god' over and over again, looking like he was about to have an aneurysm.

I followed the man to the edge of the café, away from hearing ears. I looked up to see him staring fondly back down at me.

Fondly? Jesus this is disgusting.

"Louis, as you're probably aware," Simon spoke, readjusting his tie, "I've decided to give you the job."

Suddenly, all the angst I had, flooded out of me, leaving me as light as a feather.

I couldn't contain the grin that took form on my face, "Really? Oh my god, thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me."

He leant down, face only inches away from mine, "Louis, cut the crap. This isn't exactly a difficult job to get," he moved back to his original stance, "So, when can you begin working for me?"

I adjusted my posture, continuously feeling uncomfortable in his presence, "Er... I can start now I guess?"

He smiled at that, turning on his heel to walk away. But not before turning one final time, winking, and saying, "Perfect, Niall or Perrie can show you to the spare uniforms out back."

I shivered in disgust, feeling dirty and as if I had just been struck with a bout of the Plague. I nodded and watched him leave through the same door that he had entered around an hour ago.

"Dear God," I leant back against the wall, "Lads, I need a moment before I literally vomit everywhere." 

Niall made it to my side first, as per usual, patting my body in order to check if I were hurt.

"Louis, what the fuck was that?" Perrie said, once she reached where I was, still trying to bring colour back into my pale face.

I breathed out, "Fuck knows."

Niall then decided to take his turn and speak, "Why was he so close to your face?"

"Honestly, guys. I don't know. I genuinely thought you were joking earlier, but obviously I was wrong." I shook my head, trying to rid myself of the image of his disgusting breath fanning my face, "I mean he did ask me if I was gay in the interview but I just thought that was maybe because of the way I acted or dressed or something."

Perrie looked at me suspiciously, "And what did you answer to that?"

"Huh?" I replied.

"What did you answer when he asked you if you were gay?" Niall at this point had joined in with an interrogating stare.

I felt guilty about lying, but they couldn't know, "I said no, obviously."

Niall spoke, "There's nothing wrong with being gay by the way."

Perrie agreed, "Exactly, nothing wrong. It's just you know I would rather gauge my eyes out than see you and Simon at it."

I laughed at that, "Oh trust me, so would I."

The jingle of the bell at the door opening, interrupted us. But I didn't look over, not thinking anything of it.

Perrie smiled, looking at the Irish boy, "Guess who's job it's going to be to teach Louis what to do?"

Niall groaned but agreed, leading me over to the back of the counter and through the door beside the one that led to Simons office.

He rummaged around for a few minutes before resurfacing with a uniform for me.

The uniform consisted of a plain back long sleeved shirt; which I was grateful with for obvious reasons, as well as an apron that had a pocket at the front that was embroidered with pink stitching to spell out "Coffee House."

He handed them to me, saying, "The jeans you have on now are fine. But remember, always black trousers. Turn up here with red chinos and you'll get your ass kicked."

I blushed even though I clearly knew that he had no idea of what was in my wardrobe, "Wouldn't dream of it, Nialler."

"Good," He said, heading back into the room and coming out a few moments later with a notepad and pen, which both once again had the logo printed on them, "These are for taking orders."

"Okay, so what exactly do I do when I take the orders?" I asked, looking down at my feet in embarrassment.

Niall laughed, but it wasn't mockingly, "Just ask for their order, write it down and bring it back to us. Just use some Tommo charm and make sure to see if they're happy with everything."

The instructions seemed pretty easy, "Is that literally it?"

Niall laughed once more, "This is a fairly easy job mate. Now that you know the basics, follow me."

He took me back through to the café, pointing at a seated man with his face away from us, and woman who was beautiful to say the least, "Them, they're friends of mine. A very friendly couple, they'll be perfect for your first time."

I let out a chuckle, Niall swatting my arm before joining me in laughter and saying, "Not like that, you sick bastard!" He pushed me forward, "Now, off you trot. Perrie and I will be back here waiting for their order, okay?"

"Yeah that's fine." I replied, giving the boy a smile and making my way over to the seated couple.

I arrived shortly, finding myself feeling awkward at interrupting their conversation. They both seemed to be discussing something important by the way the girls hands were flailing left right and centre.

I coughed, bringing their conversation to a halt in return. They both averted their gaze from each other and fixed it upon me.

My breath hitched in my throat, as I took in the sight in front of me. Brown, curly hair framing the most stunning bright, jade eyes, plump pink lips causing inappropriate thoughts to manifest in my mind. The mans eyebrow raised, a smirk playing at his lips with dimples threatening to peek through.

"Harry." I breathed, taking in the way his eyebrows furrowed now in confusion, the way his smirk was wiped instantly from his lips. I felt my face get hot, at the fact that I had let the name slip so easily from my mouth.

The man gave a small smile, just to be polite, before saying the five words that would shatter my heart into oblivion, "Sorry, Do I know you?"


	14. Chapter 14

I was shocked, winded with the feeling that those words had left. I felt paralysed within myself, but couldn't let it show, for he did not know who I was.

The girl beside the man found it her turn to speak, "Harry, who is this kid?" Not a single ounce of remorse present in her voice, solely judgement.

He shook his head, shooting me an apologetic smile that said - I wish I could say that I know you, but I don't - and replied to the quite frankly arrogant female, "I'm not sure love, but there's no need to be rude, to.." insinuating that I introduced myself.

I coughed, running my hand through my hair before presenting it to the lady, "Louis." I smiled as brightly as I could possibly muster without grimacing at the fake-ness of it all.

I had no doubt in my mind that this alluring man could not possibly be the same Harry I grew up alongside. That same boy who I shared some of my best memories with, but also my worst. It was impossible, he would've remembered me. I'm sure of it.

But the coincidence of it all was far too great. Same name, same eyes, same smile, same dimples, same everything.

I however, couldn't allow myself to accept that.

The man sat currently in front of me had to be a different man all together, I needed to believe it if I were to survive the heart break that were to come with the acceptance, that I had in fact been forgotten.

The lady swatted my hand away, in refusal to shake it, "Erika." She grumbled, not meeting my eye.

The man shot her a pointed look, the disapproval of her behaviour radiated from his expression, "Well Louis," he took out his hand for me to shake, which I accepted, ignoring the sparks that burned through my body in turn, "I'm Harry, as you already know, somehow." He chuckled, eyes sparkling, dimples creating the most perfect crevices in his clear complexion.

"Oh, yeah." I laughed, awkwardness evident in my voice, not really sure what exactly was going on at this moment in time.

"How exactly is it that you know me? Not to be rude or anything," he glanced briefly over at Erika before continuing the conversation at hand, "But I'm sure I would've remembered a man such as yourself."

I kept telling myself that this wasn't him, and so I once again braved another smile, "Reminded me of an old friend that's all. But the coincidence sure is uncanny."

The green-eyed man giggled before jokingly nudging me in the ribs, "You could say it was fate."

I laughed at that, ignoring the way my heart fluttered at the possibility that it had in fact been fate that bought us together once again. My best friend and the man who consumed my every thought was sat in front of me, after all of these years, and yet disappointment caused a pang deep inside my chest.

"Are you quite finished boys?" Erika spoke out, voice as sharp as daggers, destroying what joy could have possibly been bought to me through the conversation.

"Eri-" Harry began, clearly growing tired of her. I however, made sure to cut him off.

"Sorry, how rude of me. I'll be off now," I appointed each of them with a signature 'Louis' smile. Yet for anyone who knew me, it was clear to see that I was anything but happy. My smile told one story, but my eyes were where you had to focus your attention. The brightness was gone, only a dull remainder of the blue pigment left in its absence, "It was really nice to meet you both, sorry for the inconvenience lads. Oh god sorry that was unprofessional wasn't it? I apologise. Yeahhhh I'll just be off now." Once I had finished my rambling, I gestured behind me to where the counter stood built.

"Yes. That was quite rude, Lewis." The woman, who was seriously beginning to push my final buttons spoke out.

First day on the job and I was already bound to receive complaints. I wasn't going to last five minutes here, and once again, to say I needed this job would've been an understatement.

I looked down toward the floor, glumness spreading throughout every inch of my body as I muttered out a brief, yet heartfelt apology.

"Louis, it's okay. Pay her no mind." He attempted to supply me with a reassuring smile, but at this stage nothing could compare to the way I was feeling.

I nodded, smiling sadly, before calling over Niall.

"Can you take their orders, please?" I directed the question at the Irish lad.

He raised an eyebrow, looking me over, confusion evident in his expression, "Urm, yeah sure, I guess. Take a quick break if you need it." He pulled me in for a hug. I was starting to grow fond of this boy. He seemed to put everybody's emotions and feelings before his own and yet he always seemed to be smiling. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Harry's jaw tense at the action, but I brushed it aside as if it were nothing.

I quickly agreed to Niall's offer of taking a break, supplying the couple with a final goodbye before rushing over to the counter. I opened the latch, ignoring the worried glance from Perrie as I did so, and allowing myself easy access to the door that held the uniforms from earlier.

Once in there, I glanced around taking in the dirty dishes and cringing at the sight of them. Although it was hypocritical of me to say the least.

I spotted a door at the far corner of the stuffy room, supposedly leading out to the back entrance. I hummed in approval, believing that it would be the perfect spot to enjoy a moment alone.

I clicked the lock open, stepping out into the open air and allowing the steady breeze to engulf me.

Goosebumps spread across my skin as I reached into my back pocket for the packet of cigarettes I kept on me at all times. I pulled one to my mouth and ignited the flame, swirls of grey smoke pouring into my lungs in turn.

I leant back along the brick wall facing the door, my body slowly slipping down it until I was sat on the floor in a crumpled mess. I bit my lip, begging for the emotions to stop empowering me.

Tears prickled behind my blue iris', nudging at me for release. But I was strong, I had to be. I had spent so many years of my life contemplating this exact moment, and to say it wasn't how it had planned out in my mind would've been an understatement.

I let my head fall against the cold bricks, revelling in the relief it gave my aching head. I gave a final toke of the cigarette before tossing it somewhere unknown, not bothering to extinguish the fire present within it.

I stayed still in that position for a while. How could it be that he had not remembered me? Had I really changed that much? Even if I had, that was no excuse. I could pull out the boy from a crowd of a million using his eyes alone.

It had pained me to see that I was just a step in Harry's perfectly paved road. I clearly hadn't had the same effect on him that he had had on me. The ten year old Harry I knew had clawed his grip so tightly on my emotions and that hurt, because he had no idea what grief he had caused.

However, I knew now that I had to forget. If he had so easily forgotten I would do the same. I would numb out any feelings I may have had for him, move on and rebuild my barriers.

It was naïve of me to think that even if things had planned out different, that we would have been anything. In no world would I, Louis Tomlinson, be lucky enough to find someone as perfectly pure as he.

He was a rose in a thorn bush.

And I was the biggest thorn.

I placed my hands on the cold gravel beneath me, using it to lift myself from the ground. I brushed off the remaining dirt from my trousers, and headed towards the door.

I opened it, a shiver running through me as I was met with the warm air inside.

I made a beeline towards the passageway that led to the café. Perrie motioned me over and therefore, I swiftly followed.

"You alright, Lou? You seem a little under the weather. Would you like me to call Zayn to come and get you?" She placed her hand on my shoulder, rubbing circles with the pad of her thumb.

I shrugged, brushing aside any desire to go home, "Nah, it's okay. When does the shift finish, do you know?"

She smiled brightly, "Since its your first day you can go home at three. Niall and I will cover for you of course."

My heart swelled at the action of such kindness, "Thank you, Perrie. Seriously I really appreciate it."

She nodded, removing her hand from my shoulder and placing them on her hips, head tilted, eyeing me with a worried, yet stern glance, "Are you going to tell me what happened? You were fine earlier."

I forced out a laugh, "And I'm still fine now, trust me."

She shook her head, clearly able to read me better than I had initially thought, "Louis, stop. It's me. You can tell me anything, you know that."

I agreed to that, yet knew that I had to hold back, "Just saw somebody who reminded me of someone I once new." I smiled sadly, uncontrollable tears welling in my eyes, yet I was sure to blink them back before they fell.

Sympathy was spreading throughout Perrie's features, causing guilt to raise in me. Because I had caused that. "Lou, what happened to them? Did they die?"

A feeling of something I was not familiar with circulated through me. He had not technically died, but as far as I was aware, he had. The 'old friend' that I had known was gone, forever.

"You could say that," I spoke out, shuddering in response, "Is it okay if we don't talk about this anymore?"

She quickly agreed, pulling me into her embrace, whispering calming words on how sorry she was.

Yet that was not what I was focused on. As I stared ahead, still wrapped tightly in Perries arm, I saw Harry stand from the table, Erika's hand in his, as he pulled her in for a brief kiss. His firm, almost angry eyes met with my teary ones in a short connection, before he brushed it away. Walking straight toward the exit.

Niall came over then, pulling Perrie away from me with a hectic expression on his face.

He held onto my shoulders, shaking me back and fourth a couple of times before saying, "Louis! What the fuck! Why did Harry ask me to give you this?"

The blonde-boy handed me a note, scribbled on the back of the Café's napkin. I furrowed my eyebrows as I read the message, that had a phone number scrawled underneath.

'Was nice to meet you. Fancy catching some friendly drinks sometime? H x"

I looked up in utter confusion at Niall, shaking my head as I did so, before looking back down, eyes trained on the messy handwriting, pushing my fringe out of my eyes, as I spoke out, "I don't know, Niall. I really don't know."


	15. Chapter 15

HARRY POV

To say things have been bad between Erika and I, would be an understatement. I however, couldn't find an ounce of me that seemed to care. The way she acted with Louis was completely uncalled for, even if it was a bit of an uncomfortable situation to find myself in with a complete stranger.

He seemed like a lovely guy, and so I could definitely see myself wanting to build a friendship around that. If only he would call or message me.

I've messaged Niall a countless amount of times over the last three days to make sure that he had in fact passed on the note, and the Irish boy had assured me that he had.

So really, there was no possible explanation that my mind could conjure to explain why he wouldn't contact me, or as to why I felt so empty that he hadn't.

Perhaps I had come across a little forward in my message, not that I thought he'd mind, seeing as he was quite clearly gay. I regret giving him the wrong impression however, because I'm in fact straight and would want nothing less than to lead him on.

"Why did you have to give him that note?" Erika continued the same incessant rambling that had been leaving her mouth constantly.

"I told you. He seemed nice. What more do you want?" I said, rolling my eyes and averting my attention back to my laptop where I was busy watching random cat videos.

She sighed, "He was checking you out."

I lied, "He's not gay. Jesus Erika, have you always been this jealous?" I finally met her eyes.

"How would you know that he's not gay?" She questioned, gaze interrogating.

"I can just tell."

"Because you're gay?"

I scoffed at that, wanting nothing more than to just walk out of the room, "Yes, Erika. I am gay. Which is why I am in a relationship with a woman." Sarcasm dripping from my words.

"That's only because you could never find another person that would put up with you the way I do." She spoke out. I'm sure that her words meant no harm, yet it stung an unimaginable amount of pain to hear.

"Put up with me?" I retaliated, "You've been nothing but paranoid recently. I mean come on... implying that I would cheat on you with a man is a bit far, even for you. Don't you think?"

She shook her head, "No it's not. Men like you don't care where their dick is, so long as it's somewhere."

That was the breaking point for me. Anger toppled out of me like a glass that had been left under the heavy stream of water for a second too long. I got up from the double bed, throwing my laptop to the side as I did so. Not bothering to close it. I knew that Erika would look through it, because that's the sort of person she seemed to be, so I had made sure to add some nice surprises to my history just to give her a temporary heart failure when she inevitably stumbled across them.

"Harry. Where do you think you're going?" She studied the way I angrily grabbed my coat from the chair, stuffing my phone into my pockets in the process.

"Out." I grumbled, not meeting her eye, for I was really not in the mood to even look at her.

"Harry, if you walk out of that door, don't expect for me to be here when you return." She threatened.

I laughed, yet it was filled with no emotion, "Wouldn't that be an absolute shame?" I rolled my eyes, scurrying around to fill a bag that I had seen lying around, with clothes for the night.

"So this is it? All of this for nothing?" She began, "Over that-that boy."

"This has nothing to do with him!" I shouted, the sound visibly startling her.

She regained her composure almost as quickly as she had lost it, "Bit defensive aren't we? After all, you claim not to know him."

"No Erika, I don't know him. Which is exactly why I am defensive. You have no right to talk that way about someone you don't even know."

She was right though. I did not know him. Therefore, I had no right to defend him as much as I was doing, to throw away a girl just because I had become mesmerised by the barristas smile.

Yet I couldn't stand to be around Erika for a second longer, which was why I had to make the decision-as hard as it may have been- to walk away. For now at least.

The way Louis had been so easily able to steal every living breathing thought from me, confused me, to an extent I thought impossible. Yet it had happened. We had only shared a couple of words at the Café and yet I felt the need to learn what was beneath that exterior of his... I had to.

And I would.

Erika pleaded now, with tear-filled eyes, "You don't actually mean this? You're not actually leaving me?" She blinked harshly, allowing the crocodile tears to flow, "I'm sorry for what I said, I-I wasn't thinking. Please just stay, we can work this out. I promise."

Promises meant nothing to me for some particular reason, but there was no event that would cause that correlation in my mind; as far as I was aware.

"I'm sorry. We can work this out one day, but for now I need time away from you. This has all been too much, the accident. I don't even know who you are anymore." I hated the words that came out of my mouth, but they were truthful. She had to know that my heart wasn't in it anymore.

"Where will you stay?" She thumbed away at the remaining tears that had gathered up in the corner of her eyes.

"I'll figure it out." I mumbled, collecting the rest of my items. I gave one final look behind me, taking in what could be the last time I saw her, before stepping out of the room.

"Bye." I heard her whisper, but it was so quiet that I wondered if it had simply been a product of my imagination.

I headed directly to the front door, fumbling around with the keys that were situated in a bowl to the side.

I walked out onto the cold street, the blur of traffic adding to the nausea that seemed to be growing in my stomach. I had nowhere to go, my mother was back home. The only person that sprung to mind was Niall. Yet I didn't want to bother the poor boy.

I had no other option though. I searched through my pockets, pulling out the device that I had placed there only minutes before. I sat myself on the curb, tucking instinctively further into my jacket, in search for warmth.

The warmth never came however, as I dialled the familiar number.

"Hazza?" The voice on the other line poured through, into my ear.

"Niall." My voice was hesitant. Surely I could book a hotel and save him the trouble. Why would he allow me to stay? I was a burden upon everyone. Erika was right. I would never find somebody that would put up with me the way that she had, yet I couldn't be selfish and sentence her to a life like that-with me.

"What's up, buddy?" The voices and music in the background overpowering his voice.

"Nah, don't worry mate. You seem busy." The last thing I wanted was to bring down somebody else's fun, which was what I would end up doing. No doubt about it.

Shuffling from the other line was heard, "Nah I'm not busy. Shut the fuck up for one moment please."

"Erm. Yeah. Niall, really, don't worry about it. I'll call you back later or something. Sorry." To say I was slightly taken aback by his outburst would be accurate.

"What... Oh, No! I wasn't talking to you. It was Zayn, being Zayn. Uneccesarily loud. So are you going to tell me what's up? Or am I going to have to drag you here myself." It was lovely to see how Niall would always put others before himself, he would always have time for me. No matter what. And that wasn't something that came about often.

"Depends. Where exactly is here?" I questioned, tapping my fingers on my leg in an unrecognisable tune, a habit I was familiar with.

"My house, mate." It was relieving to hear that I wouldn't be pulling him away from anywhere special if I were to go along with my plan of staying at his for the night.

"Mind if I tag along? If not that's totally okay. Just things with Erika... kinda, you know?" Avoiding the truth would get me nowhere, and it wasn't something that I was doing intentionally. I just wasn't aware on how to word the news.

"Things with Erika what? What happened with her? Is she okay? Is she hurt?" The blonde boy blurted out in an absolute frenzy.

"She's fine. Shit just kinda hit the fan I guess." I spoke, failing in my attempt to reassure the boy.

"HARRY! What do you mean? Can you just tell me what's wrong with her? Shit, come to think about it, she did look a little pale last time I saw her." When Niall was worried, everything came out of his mouth in a fast blur, which was exactly what was happening.

"She was pale because she ran out of fake tan." I stated.

Niall deadpanned, "You're calling me, to tell me... tha-that she ran out of fake tan? Turns out I am busy if this is regarding me going out to the shops to buy her a top up."

I placed my hand on my head, breathing in and out in an attempt to calm myself down, "No. Niall. I did not call you because she ran out of fake tan, you moron. I called you, because I split up with Erika. And incase you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly surrounded by friends that have a spare room for me to so conveniently crash in. So, can I stay at yours for a couple of days, or not?"

"You broke up with Erika?!" He squeaked out, "Fucking finally!"

I shook my head in disbelief, "Right, okay. I am going to ignore that you said that. I'll be over in five minutes, give or take."

"Harry. I have friends round, like friends that might not be so comfortable in seeing y-"

I blanked out at whatever he had said, wanting to get out of the cold as soon as possible, "Yeah whatever. I'll see you in a bit. Heading there now." I hung up, hastily.

I pushed myself up from the curb, and made my way toward his house. Luckily for me, he lived only a couple of roads away, so I wouldn't be forced to stay in these English weather conditions for much longer. The cold nipped at my nose, my fingers starting to turn blue. With each breath I took clouds of white smoke formed in front of me. How was it so cold that even in the dark night, I could see my own breath?

The streets were as clear as they could possibly be for London, which was no surprise considering the time.

I began to think over my actions today, had I been too harsh? The constant nagging at the back of my mind that I had made a life altering mistake, would not leave me. Yet I had no choice but to see things through. See what was to come from ending things with Erika. It would go either one of two ways.

Good or Bad.

I crossed the street, ensuring to look both ways for any sign of traffic. I approached the familiar apartment complex. It was a little run down, to say the least, yet it was almost a second home to me.

I pressed the button associated with his flat number, and waited for a response from the other line.

"Helloo." Zayn's voice flowed through the outdoor speaker a few seconds later.

"Hi Zayn. It's Harry. Do me a favour, and buzz me up?"

"Of course mate."

With that, the satisfying hum of the outside door being unlocked rang. I pushed the door open, looking at the mass amount of stairs that I would have to climb in order to reach my destination. I sighed, and began waltzing up them.

Finally, a little out of breath, I reached the top of the stairs. I knocked on the door, three, loud times, and waited to be greeted.

The commotion inside was clear to see, even from an outsiders perspective. I would have to tell Niall to turn down the music, and volume of their voices, for his own sake. The last thing he needed was a noise complaint.

Not long after, the door was opened. I was met with a large grin, Irish accent filling my ears soon after.

"Harry! You came," he placed his hand on my shoulder, then moving it to my forearm in order to drag me inside, "Come on, we were just about to play truth or dare."

I looked around, taking in the people that surrounded it, there wasn't many. Zayn, Perrie, one of Perries friends I assume, "You might want to turn down the volume, it's a litt-" Louis. My eyes met with his, and the breath that I was attempting to release, refused to come out.

"It's a little what." Niall pressed.

"Loud." I breathed, barely audible in my disbelief.

The warmth had come.


	16. Chapter 16

HARRY POV

Niall touched my shoulder lightly, as if to shake me from the trance that I had allowed myself to slip into.

"Oh right," I shook my head, "Truth or Dare you said?" My eyes traced around the room, looking for anywhere to land other than the blue-eyed boy.

Niall spoke, "Well I mean, that's what we were going to do before you arrived. Unless you don't want to?"

I let out a small laugh, "Since when do I have a say in anything we do?"

The Irish boy placed his arm around me, leading me towards where everybody sat, "You don't, sorry Curly." He ruffled my hair slightly, before taking a seat beside Zayn.

It was a cramped situation to say the least. Niall had all but two sofas and an armchair in his living room, which wasn't a great result on my behalf, considering the majority was already taken up. Sprawled across one sofa was Niall and Zayn, with Perrie and her friend on the other. That left Louis sat on the single seated armchair alone.

"Right then," an amused expression surfaced among my features, "I guess I'll take the floor."

Niall and Zayn gave a brief nod of approval, Perrie and her friend too engrossed in their own conversation to even begin to realise.

I felt a weak grip wrap around my arm, pulling me toward a certain figure.

"Don't be silly." The small voice said. For some particular reason the voice sounded weak, as if it had taken a level of incomparable energy to vocalise.

I turned, our eyes connecting in a way that continuously sent sparks flying throughout my body. The feeling was familiar, comforting, homely, yet I had no idea as to why that was.

The boy snapped his eyes away from mine. Louis edged his way from the middle of the seat and up onto the the arm, in order to allow room for me to sit. He patted the cushion and waited patiently for me to take his place.

"You sure?" I asked referring to where he currently sat, "The arm doesn't look too comfortable. I don't mind sitting on the floor."

"It's fine." He spoke, keeping his gaze trained on the floor beneath him.

"Okay. Thank you." I replied, taking the previously occupied seat. He was close to me, almost too close, and it took every ounce of concentration that I had to keep my gaze averted. With every movement that either of us participated in, my arm would brush against his elevated thigh, causing a warmth to spread through me.

Everybody was busy in their own conversation, not a single person paying any mind to the strangely awkward tension over at our side of the room.

I decided to break it, "Anyways, now that we're in person, and without you being overly worried about coming across as unprofessional in front of my ex, can I ask why you never messaged me?"

He looked briefly over, eyes so bright they could illuminate an entire city, almost fearful, "Ex? Fair enough, not going to ask. And why would I message a stranger?" A level of venom, along with sarcasm, was laced in his words, causing a sharp pang to vibrate throughout my body, for a reason that was unknown to me.

I grabbed his arm, perhaps a little too tightly, "Because it's rude not to."

He struggled against my grip, "Well, I am rude." He replied, matter-of-factly.

I rolled my eyes, sarcastically whispering a response, "Clearly, considering you gave up your comfort so that I could have a seat."

"Let go of me," he pulled his eyes from mine and let them gaze upon the bruising my fingertips was causing among his skin, "You're hurting me." He spoke softly, yet I had a feeling that he was not referring to way I held onto him.

I released my grip instantly, examining his arm in the process, "I'm so sorry," I stumbled over my words, "I-I I don't know what got over me. I'm never usually like this. I guess I had just thought we could've perhaps been friends, and it hurt to think that you thought differently. I'm not trying to play the victim card either, I understand if you want nothing to do with me, especially now."

I kept my voice low, not wanting to draw attention to the scene that was unfolding as a cause of my actions. This had been my chance, to prove to him that I was worthy of a chance. Why I needed there to be a chance in the first place, confused me. But I just knew that I did.

He shook his head, smiling in disbelief, "Nah. Don't worry about it. Zayn always grabs my arm like that, no damage done. Boys will be boys, am I right?"

I bit my tongue, as hypocritical as it was, the thought of Zayn, or any other man for that matter, placing a hand on Louis stirred a fire deep in the pit of my stomach.

"You alright there, Haz? Looking a little pale." He spoke, putting a comforting hand among my shoulder.

I laughed softly, ignoring the butterflies that came along with the nickname, "Yeah, yeah. I'm fine," I addressed the rest of the group, "So... we playing this childish game or what?"

Louis froze beside me, "I-I don't think that's a good idea."

Zayn piped up, "Why not, Lou?"

His response came out almost a whisper, "Too many boys now, might get a little weird."

That sparked a small level of anger within me, "What's wrong with too many boys? You a homophobe or something?" I questioned Louis, deep down hoping that I had seriously misinterpreted his words.

His eyes widened in disbelief, "N-no, that's not  
the case," he lowered his voice, "Not the case at all."

The feeling that he was attempting to share a hidden truth to me reassured any doubts that I had.

Niall intervened, "One round won't hurt anyone."

Anyone could see that Louis felt uncomfortable, yet he tried his hardest to cover up that truth, as he nodded in agreement.

Zayn was the first to stand and take his position on the floor, pulling Perrie to his side in the process. His actions were quickly followed by Niall and the random girl who I had yet to figure out the name of.

I placed my hand on Louis' knee as I lifted myself from the armchair, feeling him flinch in response, "You coming?" I questioned, keeping my voice as soft and as comforting as I could manage.

He nodded his head, ridding himself from the thought induced day dream that he had been caught up in, "Yup," he offered me a smile, "Can I-erm maybe, sit next to you?" He sounded young in his words, like a child. Once again it was familiar, and yet I still could not pin-point the familiarity in my mind.

I couldn't hold back the fond smile that invaded my features, "Of course you can." I threaded my hand through his and led us to our seats on the carpet.

Zayn raised his eyebrow at our intertwined hands, confusion and a level of underlying disgust present in his expression. Louis' gaze met with Zayn's and he froze, dropping my hand instantly and wiping his palm on his jeans. I felt the need to question him as to why he allowed others to dictate his actions for him, yet I held back, trusting that it was for good reasoning.

My subconscious invaded my thoughts, allowing mixed emotions to swirl around my mind in a disgusting alliance. The butterflies that I felt around him were wrong, I hadn't felt something like that for years, but once again, I couldn't remember when I had last felt them.

I couldn't remember anything of that sort, and it began to worry me. I began to get the feeling that the things that I had forgotten were of more importance than Erika had initially made them out to be. When I woke from the accident, I had felt as if something had been snatched from me, a memory, an event, a person of great significance. And now it was gone, perhaps never to return.

The thought pained me, it all seemed to link back into the small, sassy Louis Tomlinson, which led me further into the fear that perhaps I had known him before the accident. He had recognised me, I had not, and yet the thought didn't seem rational in my mind. It seemed impossible that I could forget a person, a whole section of my life.

My other issue also seemed to link back into the blue-eyed boy. Just as everything else seemed to.

I could not allow myself to get close to him, it was not fair on either one of us. The reasoning being that I was catching feelings, hard and fast, yet I could never allow for us to happen. I was straight, and as much as I had my suspicions, for all I knew, so was he. And if he was not, it would be unfair for him to be lead on by my selfish actions. I knew that I would have to sever the barely made ties with him at one point or another, I just didn't know when, or if I even could.

I was snapped abrubtly from my thoughts. And the reasoning for it caused nausea to build at the pit of my stomach.

"Louis, I dare you... to kiss Jade."

Louis nodded in approval, taking no hesitation in leaning in toward Perrie's friend, connecting their lips in one swift movement.

My stomach churned at the sight before me, "I-I gotta go." I blurted out, before finding my feet and sprinting to the guest bedroom.

Leaving both myself, and everybody else, in a state of confusion.


	17. Chapter 17

HARRY POV

The commotion behind the closed door was still clearly present, yet muffled slightly by my attempt to drown it out. Headphones pressed deep into my ears, the heavy bass creating a steady rhythm that soothed me.

My actions earlier had been irrational and uncalled for. There was no explanation that would justify the way that I had so quickly ran away, without even a moments hesitation. No explanation to justify the surge of emotion that had come as a result of the sight in front of me.

I'd have to create an 'extravagant' excuse of a stomach bug, which would surely not be believed by a single one of them. But that could wait. For now, I had to be alone, for when I am alone I let myself think. Thinking can be the most destructive thing, and yet the need to self-destruct is always there.

Which is why that is what I will allow myself to do. I will allow myself to think until my eyelids shut, and the darkness pulls me under along with them. For the only time that I am truly peaceful, is when I am asleep.

-

I woke with a throbbing sensation in my head. The sunlight weaving its way through the cracks of the curtains that had not been properly closed.

Niall's apartment was eerily quiet, a sign that proved we were the only two currently residing within it.

I grimaced at the fact that I was still wearing last nights clothes, placing my hands either side of me in order to lift myself from the mattress. I paced around the room, tidying it in order to quieten the battle that had already began brewing within my mind.

It was constant, it felt as if it would never stop. My thoughts would consume me fully one day, I was certain of it.

I had never once been great full for Niall's messiness, but for now it kept me occupied, and sometimes, you just had to be occupied.

I slipped myself out of last nights skinny jeans, the material refusing to stop clinging to me. I took off the shirt and replaced my outfit with a random jumper that I found laying around, alongside some joggers from the overnight bag that I had bought.

It wasn't particularly cold for this time of year, which surprised me, yet the steady breeze was clearly still present. Leaving a trail of goosebumps in its path. It was a bittersweet type of comfort.

Deep down I longed for the warmth that only a person could bring, the warmth that I had experienced around a certain blue-eyed boy. Yet I knew that the cold was what grounded me, kept me from drowning myself in the feeling that was often referred to as love.

I had yet to figure out why I had reacted in such a way. It was a feeling of jealously that I had never once experienced. With Erika, I had not minded in the rare occurrence that someone had checked her out, or in the much less rarer occurrence that she had flirted with somebody else. At the time I had thought it was due to the fact that I was comfortable within the relationship, yet now I was not so sure that was the reasoning behind it.

I had always believed that love was grown gradually, that passion at the beginning of a relationship was not needed, for it would be developed over time. My mother had always told me that a relationship that would last, was one that wasn't initially based off of infatuation. I had never once questioned my sexuality, and yet the way that I felt around Louis was a feeling of what could only be described as pure infatuation. And as far as I was aware, you didn't get infatuated with your friends.

I considered having a shower, but despite the sleep that I had, I was far from well rested, even to do a simple task such as shower. It was understandable really. How was I expected to have slept well when my mind was whirring at a hundred-miles-an-hour? Not allowing me a single moment of uninterrupted slumber.

Since the accident, I have not had a single nights sleep- a proper one that is. And yet, it feels as if I can't even remember the last time I fell asleep with a smile on my face, the last time I felt comfortable in falling asleep. Or the last time that I felt comfortable within myself in general.

I felt a steady vibration to the side of me, the familiar feeling of an incoming phone call. I let out a groan, not knowing who would be calling me. I allowed myself to wallow in the confusion for a few more seconds, for no one other than Niall or Erika ever called me.

I held a small fraction of hope that the person on the other line would be Louis. However, whatever hope was built, was just as soon torn down as I slid my finger across the screen, allowing for the familiar voice to fill my ears.

"Harry, dear." The voice conversed, bringing a smile to my lips, because fuck, I missed her.

"Mum!" I let out an excited squeak, unable to hide my content in hearing her, even if it had only been a short while since the last time.

"It's been a while. How are you getting along in London? And since the accident, I was so worried about you. How are your ribs? All healed I hope. Did you ever find out who hit your car? I heard it was under the name Zack, or Zayn. I don't know, something along those lines. Ring a bell?" My mother rambled, I brushed aside her questions, yet one stuck out to me like a sore thumb.

"I love it here mum. Honestly. Niall is really helping me settle in, although I miss home a lot. My ribs are practically healed, a little sore every now and then, but what can you expect?" I let out a small laugh, only to ease the tension that was building up on my part, "And Zayn...as in Zayn Malik?"

It couldn't be. Zayn wouldn't keep something like this from me, I was sure of it. Unless, he was protecting somebody else, or was unsure that it was even me in the first place.

I didn't want to believe it, but my mother confirmed my fears, just as quickly as she had set them, "Yes! That's the boy. Do you know him?"

Gulping down the lump that had formed in my throat, I answered, "Yes, Mum. We're friends."

She clearly didn't hear the shakiness in my voice, as she said, "Oh! That's lovely, dear. Have you made any new friends? I'm a little fed up of only hearing about Niall, as much as I love the boy."

I felt conflicted on whether or not to bring up the topic of Louis, the boy that had been occupying my every thought recently. I decided it best to just mention him, yet avoid conversation on any developing feelings that may be there.

"Erm-yes actually. There's one boy, who I've become quite attached to. I don't know, he just feels familiar." I spoke, trying my hardest to keep it sounding as platonic as possible.

"What's he like? Want to make sure that he's good enough company for my boy." A humorous edge present in her tone.

"Mummm...," I groaned out, frowning at the fact that she sometimes still treated me as a child, "I'm an adult."

"Harry, you're 18. Still a baby in my eyes."

"Ugh. Whatever. His name is Louis Tomlinson, he's-" My voice was cut off by a sharp intake of breath on the other line, instantly after I had uttered his name.

The line went quiet, I hated the silence that followed. It wasn't comfortable, it was simply tense. Just as I was about to speak, my mother finally spoke, her words doing anything but soothing my racing mind.

"Di-Did you just say Louis Tomlinson?" She managed to choke out.

"Errr, yes. What's going on?" I questioned, not understanding her reaction.

"I knew you two would find each other again. I'd never seen a bond like that between two people so young, it was bound to happen. I tried to keep you two together, but Robin insisted it was for the best. Jesus Christ, fate truly is real." My mother gushed.

Yet what she was saying made no sense to me, but at the same time, in one twisted way or another, it did.

"What are you on about?" I questioned.

She sighed, pausing a moment before speaking, "Harry. You don't have to lie to me. I know there's feelings there, always have been...always will be."

I struggled to choke out, "A-always have been?"

"You cried for weeks after you left him. Took you years to finally forgive us and accept your place as part of the family. Would always ask us to make contact with him, but we wanted to wait until you were both old enough to decide what you wanted. And I'm sorry Harry, because you knew what you wanted all those years back. I'm sorry for keeping you two apart, I'll never forgive myself." She spoke. It was clear that she was trying to hold back the tears. But for what reason?

"You're wrong. I don't know Louis. You must be referring to someone else. I've never cried over leaving anyone, I was never attached to anyone at the orphanage." I replied calmly. It was a simple misunderstanding on the part of my mother, it had to be.

And yet Louis thought he knew me. Everything was beginning to make sense. The way he said 'you reminded me of an old friend' the way in which it had been vocalised with nothing but pain coating every syllable, made sense now.

"Blue eyes, Brown hair, kinda short, very sassy?" My mum laughed.

"Yes." I breathed out.

"Yup...that's him."

I felt winded. I felt a weight lift from my shoulders, yet at the same time, I had never felt so heavy. It was a weight of guilt, a weight of confusion, and a weight of denial.

"I-I've got to go. Love you." I rushed out, before hanging up and leaving a very confused Anne on the other line.

So many emotions ran through my mind at once, and I couldn't pick which to focus on. Everything was slowly beginning to piece together, and I hated the feeling of that.

I knew what I had to do.

I threw my phone onto the bed, rushing out of the room and slamming the bedroom door behind me. Both in anticipation of what was to come, and out of anger.

I called out, "Niall!" No response, "Where are you?" My tone was not playful, and I reckon Niall caught onto that, because he replied almost instantly.

"I'm in here." He responded, voice leading me into the living room where yesterday's events had occurred.

The thought of yesterday's events, added more anger and emotion to the already brewing pot that was myself.

I entered the room, rolling my eyes at the TV that was turned on. Niall was sprawled across the sofa, a bag of crisps in his hands.

I spoke, a short sentence, yet a sentence that told everything, "Where the fuck does Louis Tomlinson live?"


	18. Chapter 18

(A/N trigger warning at the beginning x)

-

LOUIS POV

I pressed the familiar razor blade to my forearm, revelling in the way that the scarlet liquid bubbled to the surface in turn. The sting quickly replaced with numbness. The itch to repeat the action, over and over again, becoming harder to resist.

I watched my slightly tan skin change from a bronzed white, to a red so bright that even the brightest of flames could not live up to.

The pain was ever so familiar, and not in the typical smart-arse response that would have you question my sanity.

No.

The familiar feeling of pain that quickly dissolved into a deep numbness, was a feeling that I was well aquatinted with . The familiar feeling dragging away from my arms, and instead, directing itself past my ribcage, and directly toward the beating organ that centred my chest.

It was the pain that Harry had repeatedly, yet unintentionally caused me, for years now.

I was beginning to grow tired of it. You could only rely on and love a person for so long without any affection in return, before it became toxic. Before it extinguished any glimmer of hope that you once may have had. Before it destroyed you, along with everything you had built.

Stan had paid me a visit today, which was unusual to say the least. I had yet to figure from where his sudden interest in me had sprouted. And still, I found myself longing for attention, which if he could bring, I wouldn't complain. I wouldn't push him away.

He had now left, however. The weight on my heart returning with the absence of a person beside me. And once again I felt alone. As if I was invisible in the grand scheme of things.

Of course, Zayn and Liam would miss me, and I could only hope that Niall and Perrie would too, yet I knew for certain, that I was for them simply a smudge in a perfectly illustrated painting. A smudge that they would eventually be able to ignore, to look past, and to forget it was ever there to begin with.

And whilst their paintings showed a wide range of colour, mine was monotone, edging on complete black.

I was unsure of how many more dark thoughts I could endure, before I snapped.

I pressed the sharp edge flush against my skin once more, deeper and harder than I had ever done before, watching as the oxygen filled fluid slipped from my veins, and onto the tiled floor. The scene before me was horrific. I placed my hand over my mouth as the edges of my vision blurred. The steady, yet somehow calming flow of adrenaline pumping through me. I felt eerily at peace in that moment. An unwelcome tear slipped through the threshold that was my eyes and mixed onto the scarlet ground beneath me.

And only then did I realise, that I had finally snapped.

But did I really want this? I knew that I was currently in a terrible, terrible place, filled with nothing but destruction and distress. But as I looked out of the foggy bathroom window, and observed the lights blurring into one, the silhouettes of blue and red sirens dancing along the tall buildings that surrounded London, I knew that this was not what I wanted.

Not now at least.

I still had so much life to live. So many new people to meet, that I would never get the honour of knowing if I even so much as carved one last cut into my flesh. The busy city reminded me, etched its way into my memory, that out there, was someone for me.

Someone who would love, cherish and hold me throughout whatever life threw at us.

Us.

Plural.

And so I would make this one last fighting effort. I would no longer allow myself to repeat the words 'one more day.'

No.

I would not allow myself to be a burden both upon myself, and upon others. I would fight with every last fibre that I had within me, to smile. A smile so true that my eyes would sparkle in happiness, and the skin around them would crinkle, which would later result in deep set wrinkles as I aged. But who cared? I would finally be able to say, then, on my death bed, with old, frail skin covering every inch of my body, and a glowing smile on my face, that I was truly happy.

That I was happy that I had not ended it all here, in my one bedroom apartment that was surrounded in dirty plates, and empty food wrappers. That I had not ended it here, with so many experiences that I had not yet had the joy of participating in.

That I had not ended it here, alone, and unable to recollect a time, in which I had truly felt loved.

-

I awoke, a short time later, shivering on the bathroom floor. I groaned, rubbing my hands over my sleepy eyes as I fought the grimace that made its way to my face as a result of the blood that surrounded me.

I managed to call out a croaky, "I'm coming. Hold the fuck up!" To the incessant noice of the doorbell being pressed.

Incoherent noises slipped from my mouth as I pulled myself from the ground. I did not even bother to catch my reflection in the mirror, for I honestly didn't have an ounce of me that cared about appearance, at this moment in time.

The ringing of the doorbell grew louder, angrier even.

I shouted out once more, "A little patience wouldn't fucking kill you!"

I readjusted the glasses that sat tightly on the bridge of my nose. I had taken my contacts out as soon as Stan had left, my eyes itching for a rest.

I passed by my bedroom, grabbing a burgundy hoodie that was draped over a chair. I slipped it on, pulling the comforting sleeves over my hands, in an attempt to cover myself up as much as possible.

The ringing continued, with each press of the button it seemed to grow firmer. The pitch of the volume finding its way into my ears and attacking the headache that I already had.

I placed my hand on the door, "For fucks, sakes," I swung it open, not yet looking at the figure in front of me, "This better be important, you inconsiderate ars--."

Both myself and the curly-haired man before me, froze in our actions. His dark, mossy eyes slipping into a softer emerald as he traced in my appearance, inch by inch.

His deep voice, shattered the invisible barrier between us, "Louis. What the hell happened to you?"

I felt suddenly small, the insecurity of my voice showing, "What the actual fuck?" I exclaimed, "You disturb me for whatever god damned reason, and then insult me?"

He shook his head, clearly struggling with an internal battle of his own, as he said, voice soothing and velvety, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. Could I come in, please. We need to talk."

I shrugged, motioning for him to step inside the threshold.

The place suddenly seemed to shrink in size, the moment that his foot went clad over the doorway. I sucked in a deep breath.

I shakily spoke out, "Erm? Where do you want to do this? I mean we could go to my b-bedroom but it's a little messy, or my living room," before face palming, cheeks heating in embarrassment, "But that's also messy, Shit. Anyways, whatever you feel most comfortable with." I said, releasing a small chuckle to coat the awkwardness that I felt.

"The living room is fine."

I nodded. Concern was swirling through me in a way that caused nausea to crawl up my spine. Harry was always showing some sort of emotion, there was never a time where he had not. And yet, as he followed me through the archway that led into our place of conversation, his expression remained emotionless. His voice not even hinting at the slightest ounce of heartfelt energy.

The sofa groaned in agony, at the weight of myself sitting among it. My childhood friend followed suit, yet left an ocean of space between us.

I hummed, swinging my legs back and forth, gaze trained on anything other than him.

"So," I spoke, "What brings you here?"

His heavy façade kept its strong foundations, "Heard some news. That's all."

My eyebrow raised automatically, "And you felt the need to come to me...because?"

"It has a lot to do with you. Actually." He replied. I could feel his eyes burning holes into the side of my skull.

"How so?"

My gaze unwillingly averted from my lap and met his own. His eyes glinted with something unfamiliar, a light smirk causing the area around his lips to raise upwards.

"Did you know that I had a car accident recently?"

I choked. Finding it harder and harder to breathe, the more the conversation progressed, "E-erm."

"Did you know that you happen to know the person who hit my car?"

The interrogation continued. Before I even had a chance to speak, Harry's mouth formed another sentence.

"Did you know that Zayn, happened to be the one, who hit my car?" The smirk on his face now prominent, as he watched me squirm.

"Nothing to say, huh," the boy continued, "Didn't think so. Yet for some reason I thought either one of you would've had the decency to disclose such information."

"It was me." I whispered, my voice getting lost in between the time that it took to travel from my side of the sofa to his.

"What was that?"

"It was me," I said, louder than the last time, yet still uncertain in my wording, "I was the one who hit your car."

The air around us disappeared, smirk dropping from his face in a heartbeat, turning it into a frown that was highly out of character for a man such as himself.

"W-what?" The man questioned.

"You heard me." My voice coated in guilt.

"B-but it was under Zayn's name."

I swallowed harshly, "I was coming home from a party. I was driving Zayn's car for him because he stayed with Perrie. It was a long night and I was distra-,"

"You were drunk." His voice harsh, his eyebrows furrowed as if he were trying to piece together everything in his mind, "You hit my car, almost killed me, because you were drunk." He repeated.

My eyes burned at even the possibility of that being the outcome, "N-no. I wasn't. I hadn't drank at all."

Harry's voice was laced in venom, "Then how do you get so 'distracted' as to drive your vehicle into mine?"

"You don't want to know." I swallowed another tab of guilt, my mind dragging me back by the hair to that night.

"Enlighten me, princess."

"E-erm. I tried to sleep with a girl?" My words hesitant, a blush coating my skin in response.

He laughed, yet it was emotionless, "And why didn't you tell me this? Why didn't you make some effort to at least apologise, knowing full well that it was me?" His tone of voice saddened, "I would've, you know. If it was you in that situation. I would've waited with the ambulance, driven with you to the hospital. Would've held your hand the entire way, too. Why didn't you?" His façade slowly beginning to fade, his voice releasing a slight crack at the end.

"I-I just couldn't believe it was you."

"My mother was right wasn't she?" He spoke, denial set deep into place in his heart.

I fumbled around in my mind with the memories of the woman, "Angela?"

"Anne." He corrected.

I smiled at the memory, "Oh! Yeah thats right. Anne and Robin, was it?"

A glint of emotion sparkled in Harry's eyes, "Y-yeah. Robin passed away a couple of months back, actually."

The smile left my face, my hand reaching out to comfort his shoulder, and yet he flinched away from my touch, "A-ah. Shit. Sorry to hear that. I'm sure he was a lovely man."

His eyes locked into place with my own, however his brimmed with tears, "Can you tell me about us? I-I don't remember anything. But when I mentioned you to my mum, she said something about us always meaning to be together. I don't get what she means. I've only just met you."

"No, Harry. You haven't just met me. And I think, deep down, you realise that."

"But why don't I remember you?" He spoke, sounding younger and more vulnerable in his tone.

I let out a small chuckle, "I'm not sure. If I knew, trust me, I wouldn't be crying myself to sleep every night," the words had slipped before I had processed them, instantly regretting them as I saw the look of guilt form on the boys expression, "I-I didn't mean that. It's not your fault."

Harry gulped, "Please just tell me about us. No sugar coating. Tell me what we were like. I need to know." He whispered the last part.

"Yeah," I nodded, "Yeah, okay. What do you want to know?"

"Everything." He breathed, sending a shiver up my spine.


	19. Chapter 19

LOUIS POV

"Are you sure?" I questioned, my eyes trained on his expression, "It might take a while."

"I've got all the time in the world." He replied.

It was important for me to be sure that this was what he really wanted. If he had forgotten it, it must have been for a good reason. Possibly an unexplainable reason, but still a reason non of the less.

I nodded, coughing to release some of the built up tension within me, as I began the explanation.

"Okay, so I'll try not to go into too much detail," Harry nodded, signalling for me to continue, "Basically, I was left at the Orphanage when I was around twelve? Yeah twelve. And I didn't have many friends, because I was like sad all the time and people thought it was weird for a child of my age to be so down, constantly. That was until you came. Do you remember arriving?"

He shook his head, muttering out a small, "Nope. I only remember some kid called Stanley, and another called Jake."

"There wasn't a child called Stanley?"

"Yes. There was."

"Okayy, then." I brushed it off, assuming he was simply confused, "Well, when you arrived, you must've been ten. And you looked so vulnerable that I just had to let you under the Tommo wing," I winked, "Well actually, Miss Roberts told me to look after you. Remember her?"

"How could I forget?" He released a small chuckle, but stopped instantly when he noticed my expression drop down toward sadness, "Sorry." Harry mumbled.

I allowed for a small smile to grace my lips, looking down briefly, "N-no worries. Well anyways, the first thing you did was run directly into my arms. You kinda just broke down."

The green-eyed boy muttered, "That's embarrassing." A blush coating the highest points of his face.

"Nah, nah. Thought it was adorable, not going to lie." I laughed.

The colouring of his cheeks progressed from a rose colour, to a scarlet.

"Anywaysss," I continued, "Basically, we just became really close friends. Joined at the hip. We did everything together, felt each others emotions, knew how to cheer each other up. I don't know how to explain it really. I've never had that kinda relationship with anyone."

Harry looked briefly up at me, connecting our visions into one beautiful alliance.

Inexplicably, even after all of this time, I still could not seem to quieten the butterflies which erupted each and every time our eyes met.

"You used to suffer from night terrors. Badly. Do you remember that?"

I felt it a necessity to educate myself on how much he remembered of his time at the Orphanage. It allowed me to understand his point of view better, understand how to explain the story in a way which would best represent the bond in which we had with one another.

Harry gulped, "Y-yeah. I remember those."

"Well one night, you had a bad one. And please don't punch me when I tell you this next bit." I chuckled.

"No promises."

I nodded, "Okay. Well. I went to comfort you, as I did every time, and for some reason it clicked then and there, how beautiful you were. Like erm...how much you meant to me. You know?"

He hummed in order to show that he understood what I had meant.

"And I may or may not have kissed you." I blurted out, pulling my hand to my hair in both distress, and an un-profound level of embarrassment.

"Then what happened?" Harry seemed unfazed by my confession.

"Errr...Nothing really. You explained to me what little details you could remember about the dream. And that was that," I said, "The next day, a couple, your parents, came in looking to adopt. I was quite rude to them and so I can understand why I stuck in Anne's memory."

I laughed, Harry rolling his eyes in turn to my statement. Seemingly not surprised that I had yet to change my attitude.

Changing back into a more serious tone of voice, I continued, "To be fair, being rude was just my defence mechanism. Still is, if I'm being honest."

"Why did you feel the need to be defensive?" He asked, an amount of genuine curiosity radiating from him.

I sighed, "Well I had been in that situation a few times before. Being adopted, only for them to return me as soon as possible. I was a nightmare. It's understandable why they chose you instead of me. I held a grudge against you for all these years. Not for getting adopted, but for leaving me. I was selfish, and I'm sorry. I can now say, with 100% sincerity, that I'm happy that they chose you. You deserved it more than anyone."

"Lou..." he said, softly. Clearly attempting to keep his expression neutral, but failing drastically. Sadness evident among him.

"You used to call me that." I choked, finally allowing for the tears to gather in my eyes.

The feeling that I was experiencing was something that I was not strong enough to be able to handle. The average person would struggle to keep their composure, in a situation similar to mine. And for a person as fragile as myself, it was slowly breaking me. Eating me up inside, from the depths of the marrow in my bone, to the hairs that covered my skin. It was impossible to escape. It had me tied in shackles, and all that I could do was fight against their restraints.

"What happened next." He continued the torture, although tears of his own were now mixing against his milky complexion.

"Nothing. Harry. Nothing happened. You left the next day. You left the next day, and I spent every day up until now broken. I was broken inside. Is that what you want to hear? I would pray that you would follow through on your promise. But you never did. Do you know what that does to a person? Do you have any idea?"

The silence that followed was deafening. Harry finally managing to squeeze out a weak response.

"What did I promise you?"

"Y-you told me that you loved me. You told me that you would find me no matter what. I was so fucking naïve." I broke into sobs, curling myself into my chest in an attempt to escape the soul crushing agony that was spreading throughout me.

"I'm so sorry. I-I should go." He managed, through the tears of his own.

Harry stood up, glancing at me briefly, with an expression in his eyes that only caused me to crumble further and further into a state of destruction.

"Leave Harry. It's what you do best."

I heard him choke back a sob, and yet I refused to even look at him. I was unable to handle even another ounce of sadness. I would break. Completely. I was sure of it.

His heavy footsteps traveled away from my curled up position. I could only hope that this meant him taking away the agonising pain that I felt, along with him. But I knew that no amount of closure would ever fix me. At this point, I was broken beyond repair, and I had not a single clue on how that would ever change.

I took off my glasses, using my sleeve to wipe away at the dampness that had accumulated around my eyes. Sniffling a bit, I returned the frames to their designated area upon my face.

"Lou." A small, broken voice sounded from the corridor, leading from the living room to the front door. The voice, although quiet, echoed loudly in my mind, tearing at my heartstrings.

Harry had not left. Not yet at least.

And this caused a feeling of unease like no other to penetrate through my every cell.

I lifted myself from the sofa, exhaling loudly as I made my way to where the voice was heard. There, stood Harry, tears pooling down his face at a rate that would seem abnormal to the average person. His mesmerising, emerald eyes trained on a framed photo, that was surrounded by various other photographs.

I stood beside him, lacing my fingers through his, as we both silently took in the captured memory. Lost in the moment.

"That's-That's me." He whispered, reaching forward with the hand that was not intertwined with mine, in order to trace around his younger selfs face.

"It is." I replied, feeling as if there was not enough air reaching my lungs.

He averted his hand to trace around the second figure in the photo, who had his lips pressed against ten-year-old Harry's cheek, "And that's you." His voice hardly audible, in clear disbelief.

"It is."

"I remember. I remember everything, Lou."

I ripped my hand away from his, as if he were a corrosive chemical that would burn at even the slightest contact, "Don't. Don't lie to me. Don't get my hopes up." I said, shaking my head, and slowly backing away from him.

Harry continued to mindlessly trace over the two boys, "Your birthday, 24th of December. Your mothers name, Johanna. You're scared of thunderstorms, and I would hug you through them, each and every time, as I sang to you Katy Perry. You always made me sing Katy Perry because it was the album that was playing when your moth—,"

I shoved him against the wall, cutting him off in a bruising kiss. Harry wasted no time in returning the action, our lips slotting together in a way in which the missing piece of a puzzle would. I averted my head to the left, as his followed to the right, allowing us both a more comfortable position. My hands traveled to the sides of his face, as his moved to grip at the edges of my waist.

Harry's tongue slipped into my mouth. No permission was asked, yet no permission was needed, as I followed his lead. Our tongues danced together in a way that spread a warmth throughout my entire body, his feeling velvety smooth against my own. Short, harsh puffs of air coming in and out of our noses, as I poured every built up emotion that I possibly could into his mouth.

I tugged lightly against his hair, earning a throaty moan in turn, that caused vibrations to circulate through me. His hands slowly, and teasingly grazed their way to my backside, massaging the flesh in a way that had me melting under his control.

I slowly moved my hand from his hair, tugging once more for satisfaction, before bringing it to his growing bulge. I began to palm the area, feeling his cock twitch at the friction.

I pulled away from the kiss, continuing to palm him through his jeans, as his eyes fluttered in their shut position. I watched, in a trance, admiring the soft moans that came out of his pink, swollen lips. The sight looked so sinful, yet so innocent.

I attached my lips to his neck, alternating between sucking and nibbling at the skin, revelling in the way that the boy quivered in pleasure under my touch.

His eyes opened briefly for a moment, meeting with mine as his moans got increasingly louder, and increasingly harder to resist. His pupils were now only surrounded in a thin layer of green, the majority of his eyes now overpowered with black dilation.

"F-Fuck." I moaned at the sight in front of me, the boy becoming putty in my hand as I increased the pressure and speed against his crotch. I attached my lips back to his, both of us swallowing each others moans. I was positive that I would cum completely untouched, from watching the way he reacted alone.

"Lou...agh...shit!" Harry mumbled against my lips, as he began to shake in what was the most erotic way I had ever seen in my life. His head slammed back, his back arching in pure bliss as I reattached my lips to his neck. Pressing soft kisses up his jugular vein, loving the feeling of his pulse against my lips. Reminding me that this was in fact real. That I was in fact lucky enough to witness this.

I tugged on his hair, one last time, "I...I'm...g-gonn-a," he attempted to speak out, in between pants of arousal. I sucked against his neck harshly, Harry tensing, stomach clenching, then quivering as he moaned out a string of, "ahhhh...shittt...Lo-Louis!"

The sight before me was hands down the most beautiful thing that I had ever laid my eyes upon. His lips parted, allowing for my name to repeatedly slip as I palmed him through his orgasm. I felt the wetness seep through his jeans and onto my hand. His back was arched, groin pressed toward me in a way that made me dizzy with lust.

He gripped at my sleeve, pulling upwards as he came down from the high that I had given him. Harry failed to notice the way that I struggled from his grip, eyes closed in the pain that he was causing my forearm. Yet it was not his fault. How was he supposed to know to what extent I was broken?

As he finally opened his eyes, body only now calming from his shakes, he observed the way that my face cringed at the pressure being applied to my arm.

"What's wrong, Louis?" He questioned, concerned.

"My, a-arm." I grunted out.

I watched as his eyes broke away from mine and slowly fell upon the sleeve that was now raised up to my elbow, exposing everything that I had to hide.

He released his grip instantly, yet took my arm in his hands in a much gentler manner, a touch that caused a fuzzy feeling deep inside of me. He caressingly traced his fingers over the older, raised scars, and then up to the newer ones. I kept my gaze on his face, as I watched his eyebrow furrow in what I could only hope was not disgust.

He dropped my arm, pulling me into his embrace, as he let out a choked, "W-why?" He pulled me out of his arms, his hands at either side of my shoulders, as he stared at me through tear-filled eyes, "Why would you do this to yourself? Why would you harm your beautiful body and soul?"

I shrugged, "Let me guess, you're not attracted to me now?"

He shook his head in disbelief, offended that I would accuse him of such a shallow thought, "You're perfect. No matter what. Trust me on this."

I nodded, pulling him into my arms as I whispered against his neck, "I just need to be alone right now. You understand, yeah? I'll text you later or something. I kept your note."

Harry chuckled as I rubbed my hand up and down the crevice of his spine. He pulled away from me, kissing my forehead and presenting me with a shy wave and the dimpled smile that I loved so much, before walking out.


	20. Chapter 20

LOUIS POV

It had been all but five minutes since Harry had left, and yet there was a fresh round of knocking at the door.

I groaned as I lifted myself from the sofa, leaning over to the side in order to find the remote that would finally pause the David Attenborough documentary that I had subjected myself to watch for 'educational' purposes.

A small smile found its way to my lips at the thought of Harry returning so soon after his departure. The thought caused a sense of both comfort and excitement within me, considering the fact that he had finally remembered our time together.

Yet it still left me to wonder, what this would mean for us. It was unlikely that we would so gracefully fall back into the same pattern that we were accustomed to as children, yet the everlasting hope of something more would always be there.

I walked along the narrow corridor leading up to the door, pulling my sleeves in a downward motion. Although he had already seen what was hidden behind my array of long-sleeved outfits, I still felt uncomfortable with the idea. I felt uncomfortable with the idea that he would see me as the fragile, weak and sensitive person that I truly was. I was afraid that he would not like the person who hid behind the sassy remarks and confident exterior.

I could only hope that perhaps some day, he would learn to love my true self. Whether it be in a platonic way, or in a romantic way. Yet I prayed for the latter.

I placed my hand on the door knob, a new wave of excitement pulsating through me. I took in a deep breath, fixing my hair quickly before opening it.

"Here to return the favour? Harold." I spoke out confidently, only for my expression to turn from one of smugness, to a shade of beet red. As I realised that the man who stood before me, was definitely not Harry.

"Er-m..."

"Oh Shit. Stan. Hey," I awkwardly let out a cough, stepping to the side and signalling for him to make his way on through.

"I'm not even gonna ask." He replied, shoving me slightly to the side as he entered. Jaw tense, anger radiating from his aura in a way that caused me dizziness. Yet I could not connect the dots as to why.

"Uh. Okay. I guess."

I was engulfed by a silence so strong that it almost left me paralysed, only attempting to move once I felt his antagonised state bore into me.

"So...what brings you back, then?" I had only now realised that there was really no need for Stan to be back, for we had only seen each other earlier on in the day.

He sneered, "Why?" He came increasingly closer, "Too good for me now? Too busy with Harold? Huh?" The words leaving his mouth were laced in pure venom. The reason for that, however, was unknown to me.

I began to get increasingly more uncomfortable with just how close our stances were. His face, all but an inch apart from my own.

I placed my hand on his chest, pushing slightly to create a distance, "N-no. That's not the case." I stuttered out.

And suddenly, I felt as if I were back at school. My first day where Stan had pinned me up against the locker. I felt the same fear now as I had back then, back when he was hurling words of abuse at me.

He must have sensed the flash of worry blurt through my eyes, the way in which I had flinched away from him out of pure reflex, because he released his grip immediately.

"I'm so sorry, Louis!" He became frantic in his act, as he stepped away from me. Pacing back and fourth in clear discomfort at his own actions.

"It's okay." I spoke, quietly, yet still at a volume in which I could be heard.

"No! No. It's not okay. It's not okay at all," he said, voice tense, "You-You know how I get. You know I'm like a switch. I'm sorry. I should have never of touched you like that, let alone spoken to you in that way."

I moved forward, placing my hand on his shoulder in a comforting manner, "I know, Stan. It's okay. Really. No hard feelings."

"I've changed. I'm not the same kid I used to be," he looked deep into my eyes, worry filling the spaces, "You believe me. Don't you, Lou?"

I flinched slightly at the nickname, feeling unreasonably guilty at the fact that it was another man calling me by the name. A man who was not Harry, and would never be Harry.

"Yeah, I know." I sighed. Letting us wallow in the silence for a few beats, "Erm... so if you don't mind me asking, what is it that you're doing here?"

"O-oh... I just forgot something," he paused, "Yeah I forgot something."

"Okay. Whereabouts did you leave it?"

"In your room?" The statement left his lips as more of a question, and I was yet again bombarded with another wave of confusion.

"Right okay. I'll be in the living room. Let yourself out when you're done?"

"Y-yeah."

I nodded once, before heading back to the sofa and un-pausing the TV. I slouched myself down into a position which best suited me, lifting my feet up onto the small table ahead.

I struggled to concentrate on both the polar bears catching their prey, and on the noise echoing throughout my house. It was all down to the curly-haired man. The memory of his lips against my own, leaving still a faint tingle in their absence. The memory of my name slipping from his lips as he came undone, seeming as if it were all but a fragment of my imagination. Yet I smiled, knowing that it had in fact been true.

The feeling bought a new spark of hope within me, one that I hoped could last and burn brightly throughout all the storms that were sure to come ahead.

Yet at the back of my mind circulated the fear of rejection. Although the act of rejection may seem small to most, I was unsure on how I would be able to cope with it. I needed Harry, one way or another, in my life.

I was not going to loose him again. And I accepted the fact that I was perhaps even glad that he left the first time. Because without that, I dread to think what we would still be. Two hopeless young adults, consumed in depression for never having been adopted.

I knew one thing for sure. And that was that one young adult consumed in depression was a better out come than two. And if that meant me having to take the hit, then I would. In a heart beat.

All those years back I had sat and thought, I had promised myself, that I would do whatever I could to prevent his pain. That I would stand in the firing range and take the bullet in order to soften his blow. Both metaphorically, and literally. Because I cannot think of a person whom I would dread to loose more. And it may seem unfair due to the fact that Zayn was with me throughout the majority of my teenage years.

But nothing compares to your first, and only, love. Everybody knows that. Whether you have been in love, been loved, or watched from the sidelines.

I was so caught up in my own thoughts that I failed to hear the front door shut. Signalling that Stan had finally left. Without thinking I exhaled, automatically feeling calmer at his absence.

Yet he was not to blame, as much as I wanted him to be blamed. I knew all too well how his temper was, and yet I still, unintentionally, managed to fuel him on. To singlehandedly ignite the dynamite that was his mind.

However, I would not allow this one minor incident to determine my mood. My mood that had honestly never been better. I had never been so content as I had in Harry's arms. And I knew, for certain, that there was nothing in the entire world that I wanted to spend my life doing more, than being content in his arms.

With that in mind, I decided to make the first move. I ignored the unwanted anxiety pooling at the pit of my stomach, as I made my way into my bedroom.

Upon entering, I noticed that my bedside drawer was left slightly ajar. I decided to ignore it, which was an act I was sure to later regret.

I went to the pile of dirty clothes that were lumped into the corner of my room, as if to preserve what little clean space I had left. I began to search through the back pockets of them all, coming up empty handed each and every time.

Yet on the last pair, I felt the papery material slip from my grasp and flutter to the ground, like a butterfly waiting to be freed. I would like to consider myself the butterfly, yet I was anything but. I was the moth.

I leaned over, picking up the napkin, and running my fingers over the inked words. And if I seemed crazy for feeling a spark from doing so, then I would happily accept the title.

I sat myself down onto the bed, taking my phone from my current jeans. The shaking vibrations of my hands continued as I opened up my inbox. Dead set on doing what I thought was right.

There was no time to fear him now, not when I had finally got him back.

And so perhaps I sent the text with uneven breaths.

And perhaps I had sat in silence, drumming my fingers across my knee as I waited for a reply.

And when the reply from the green-eyed angel finally came, perhaps had I let out a small squeak of joy.

But nobody had to know about the grin that etched its way onto my face as a result. Nobody but myself.

And with that, I fell into a dreamless sleep. A sleep so calming and peaceful, that perhaps the same smile did not leave my lips for the entire night.

-

I awoke the next morning to my alarm clock. Signalling that I would in fact be late to work if I weren't to get my arse up.

As if on autopilot, I got myself ready and arrived at the café, before I had even the time to process the speed of my actions.

I should have felt well rested, but that was a task that deemed harder than most when your mind was running at full speed, filled with nerves and excitement.

Over message, Harry and I had agreed that it would be best if he came to pick me up at 4pm, after work of course. This however, meant that I would not have the time to change my attire before going out on our date. If I could even refer to it as that.

Yet I reminded myself to stay positive, and to think of our time together as exactly that, a date.

I volunteered to chose the location, which was a nerve-wracking task in itself. I had never been one for spontaneous decision making.

However, I found a place in which I deemed perfect, and could only hope with every fibre within me that he agreed.

I tied the apron around my waist, sending a quick message in response to Harry's, as I tried to fight the automatic reflex to smile.

I felt light, bubbly almost, and it was a feeling that I hoped would stay forever.

I just had to get through the long day at work first.


	21. Chapter 21

LOUIS POV

Work was a drag.

To say Niall had been driving me slightly insane, would have been a massive understatement.

The Irish boy had been bombarding me with questions, constantly, along the lines of what Harry had said when he had arrived at mine. And honestly, all confusion that may have surfaced as to how he knew that the green-eyed boy was coming in the first place, flew out of the window as soon as he revealed that he had been in fact the one to expose my address.

"But what if he had come to murder me?" I had asked, obviously not a single trace of sincerity behind my question.

Niall had simply rolled his eyes, "Yes.... Harry Styles...the boy who cried when he accidentally stood on a dogs paw... would have gone to murder you." His tone depicted nothing but mockery.

I shrugged, "It's always the ones you least expect, Nialler." I replied, a smirk upturning the edges of my lips, as I tried to hold back on the fond expression that was sure to overpower my face if I thought about Harry with dogs for too long.

And for once in my life, as I slipped into my own thoughts, I had been able to smile. No trace of sadness evident in my eyes, as I recalled one memory in particular.

The memory of Harry and I sat on my childhood bed, planning out our future. We were young and naïve, at the time, to think that all would be as smooth sailing as the fairy tales. We had planned that we would move in together, in a one bedroom apartment. We knew that it was small, yet it was all that we thought we needed. The sweetness and innocence of that thought still continued to cause my heart to leap, because even as young as we were, we were certain of what we wanted.

Harry had insisted that he wanted a cat, yet I had found out at a very young age quite how bad my allergies to them were. But I had been willing to go through the itchy eyes and runny nose if it meant seeing the chocolate-haired boy smile. And when I had told him that, he simply pulled me into a warm embrace. An embrace so tight, that I could still, to this day, feel his grin against my neck.

He had then proceeded to offer up  
the idea of a hairless cat, to which I had scrunched up my nose in disgust. Harry had thrown his head back in laughter, my own face mirroring his expression. And before long, we decided on a dog. A dog that we could spoil, as much as I had planned to spoil him. A dog that we could love, as much as I had planned to love him.

And it was safe to say, that I had followed through on the latter end of the plan. And a new idea surfaced in my mind, that perhaps now, we could write our own fairy tale ending. An ending in which I could tell others and be proud to say, that it was the best thing that I possibly could have asked for out of life. It was stupid of me to think of our future, so early on in our relationship; yet I wanted that chance, yearned for that chance,

and I would get that chance.

Yet I stood there now, with a frozen expression upon my face. A bag of coffee beans glued to my hand, as I absorbed the chiming of the door being opened. As I absorbed the tall man who slowly approached me. As my body made no feasible attempt to move from behind the counter.

My breath was caught deep within my torso, as I allowed for my eyes to admire the gorgeous figure in front of me. A smirk slowly beginning to grace his features, at my quite frankly understandable reaction.

Harry pulled me from my trance, causing my eyes to unwillingly stop from trailing up and down his body, "You ready for our date, Lou?" Harry spoke out calmly, voice sweet like velvet to the ears of any.

A choke escaped me, as well as from Niall, who was now clutching both his chest, and the counter, breathing heavily all of the sudden, as if regaining his breath.

"A-A date?" Niall began, "You... and Harry... On a date?" He managed to squeak out in a clear state of bewilderment.

Accustom to the homophobic reactions of most, I was quick to deny, "Pfft... Nah. No date here. Just two friends. Two bro-pals hanging out." I had never been a good liar, yet luckily Niall was very gullible at times.

Harry simply chuckled, placing his hand on Niall's shoulder, directing his words at the blonde boy, "Stop worrying, you'll give yourself a heart attack," he then averted his gaze to me, voice at a volume that only I could hear, "As for you Princess, I'm hurt."

I blushed under the name, muttering out a small, "I'm not a princess. You're a princess." And it was true. It would be a damned day in hell if I were to ever be the submissive.

"What was that Lewis? Did ya say something?" Niall questioned, completely oblivious.

I felt my face redden to a deeper shade of crimson, as I swallowed the down embarrassment, "Nothing, Niall," I glared at Harry, before speaking, "Come on. We're leaving."

Niall pouted at my sudden desire to leave, "I don't get a hug from my Loubear?"

For a reason unknown to me, Harry's gaze hardened, "No. You don't. Come on, Louis."

His grip found its way to my forearm, yet in a way which was far from tight. Making me assume that he was being mindful of what was hidden underneath.

Niall's eyebrow cocked up in confusion, "Okey then... See you at mine later, Hazza?"

It was now my turn for my eyebrow to raise up in confusion. And yet the green-eyed boy simply grunted in approval, sending him a tight smile, before lacing his fingers with mine. Both of us too caught in the feeling of contentment to notice the questioning glance that the Irish-lad had provided.

We walked towards the exit, not a single word shared between us. The atmosphere was uncomfortable, tense even. This continued for a few moments, and only when we were beginning to reach the end of the road, did I have it in me to question his behaviour.

"What's up with you, Harold?"

"Nothing." He mumbled in response.

I traced my fingertips along his knuckles in a gentle action, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

"Harry, baby. Please." The word slipped, my eyes widening in horror.

He stopped then, and at first I felt anxiety pile among me at the thought of it being due to the pet name. Which was understandable really. Perhaps I was going too fast, but in my defence, it had been an accident.

Yet instead, he grabbed onto my hand that was not in his grip, and stood parallel to me. He looked down with a sort of pout gracing his features. His eyes reflecting what I thought to be both worry and insecurity.

"Erm...it's stupid, Lou. Really. Don't worry about it, yeah?" He dropped his gaze to the floor, his cheeks coating themselves in a light dusting of pink.

And I thought to myself, as I took in his slouched appearance, that this was the Harry that I remembered from all those years ago.

Not the Harry who held a harsh gaze, nor the Harry who put up a cocky front for his friends. But the sweet, almost innocent flower that he truly was, when he was being himself.

I wanted nothing more for him to be himself around me, without fear of any sort of judgment. Yet I also wanted for him to feel as if he were the most beautiful person to grace the planet, because in my eyes... he truly was.

Therefore, I would be sure to erase that small, barely visible, trace of insecurity which would go unnoticed by most. And replace it with a feeling of love, want, and comfort, like he had never felt before.

"If you're upset about something...then it's far from stupid, love. Okay," I continued to trace my thumb mindlessly across his knuckles, "You can tell me, yeah?"

He nodded slowly, unsure of himself. He bit his lip in angst, keeping his gaze trained to the ground in what could only be perceived as embarrassment.

Neither of us seemed to pay any attention in our surroundings. The mindless chatter of strangers, and the blur of cars, not even making a single attempt to register in our minds.

I pulled one of my hands from his and placed it under his chin, lifting it slightly so that our gazes now met, with an intensity that almost burned, before returning to grip his empty one, "Harry." I said softly, wanting for him to reveal what had him so down.

"It's just...It's ju-just...Fuck. I don't know." He shook his head bashfully. His eyes growing softer with every second that passed.

I hummed, "It's okay. If you don't want to tell me, then that's fine. I just want us to have fun, you know?" I gave him a smile, and despite the situation, it still met my eyes.

Harry grew flustered, "I do too, Lou! I do. I promise. Like I can't believe I actually have the chance to do this...like that you would even consider being with me y'know. Not that I'm saying that you want to be with me or anything," he looked down briefly, before looking back up, "Although eventually I'd like that. Fuck I'd love that..."

He trailed off, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. I stayed silent, in my amused state, as I waited for him to continue.

"It's just...you ermm...You and Niall? There's nothing going on there, right? I mean not that I have any say in that. Like, you do you...but like...you're just friends right?" He squeaked out, head once again dropping in shame.

I laughed, "Harry. Look at me," our gazes met, "There's nothing going on. I only have eyes for one person, yeah?"

His face crumpled into a mixture of sadness, and an underlying level of jealousy, "W-who is it? Do I know them? I mean..they're very lucky of course. But errrr... if that's the case then surely you should be with them now?"

I tried to contain the smile that was threatening to break through, "I am with them now."

Harry looked around in confusion, trying to spot someone whom it may be, yet coming back empty handed, "W-what?" He provided such an innocent expression, that it had me melting into a puddle beneath him.

Only then did I break into a full grin, the skin at the corners of my eyes crinkling, "Harry, you idiot," I spoke out, unable to hide my fond any longer, "I'm talking about you...I only have eyes for you."

I watched Harry's face instantly brighten, dimples coming out in their full glory, "R-really?"

"Of course, Hazza."

He giggled, and I swore that there and then, I died. Death from Harry's dimples and giggle. And if I was going to die, I'd choose that death over any.

"Thanks, Lou." He stared at me with such adoration in his eyes, that it caused my heart to ache from all of the leaps that it was doing.

His face slowly leant in toward my own, my tummy fluttering in response. I closed my eyes, and waited for the feeling of his lips to touch my own. Yet they simply ghosted over mine, before pressing themselves cheekily against my cheek.

"Fucking tease." I groaned, shaking my head, yet unable to hold a stern expression around him for longer than a few seconds.

"You love it!" He giggled happily, and once again my heart ached in overwhelming feelings of love for the boy.

"I'm afraid I do." I grumbled, more to myself than to anybody else.

He let go of one of my hands, yet kept his other palm safe in my own, as he skipped towards what I assumed was his car, "Come on! Hurry up, I'm excited!" He spoke in a tone that radiated nothing but happiness. He did a small twirl, still not breaking our hold, before stopping in front of me once more, "Don't want to leave your princess waiting, now do you?" He smiled innocently down at me.

"Oh, so now...you're the princess?" I smirked, eyeing him suspiciously.

Harry simply rolled his eyes, "I've always been the princess, duhhh... Actually no. Scratch that. I'm the queen." He pretended to flip his hair back sassily.

"But Queens don't have masters." I continued to smirk, edging his back closer to the edge of his vehicle. His body now trapped between us.

He blushed deeply, his voice barley audible, "U-Uhm... I'll be a Princess then!"

I winked, "I like the sound of that...Princess."


	22. Chapter 22

LOUIS POV

Our gazes were locked, the two of us drowning in the sexual tension. I wanted for nothing more than to just press my lips against his and wreck him then and there. Yet for some reason, at the back of my mind, I felt it a necessity to take things slowly with him. I only had one chance, and I was going to make sure that I took full advantage of that.

I had not waited the majority of my life, pining after somebody, for it to just be ruined by my impulses.

"Alright, sweetcheeks. Hand over the keys...I'm driving." I said, stepping away from his personal bubble, and instead leaning against the space next to him.

Harry stayed frozen for a few more beats, before blushing and coughing awkwardly, "U-uh...yeah! Of course! Silly me. I'm sorry I forgot you were the one doing all of this. I-it's just that I'm not used to other people taking control, you know?"

I paused for a moment, my mind drifting to unwanted places.

I laughed, sending a wink in his direction, "You will be once I'm finished with ya."

"Louuu..," he groaned in embarrassment, bringing his hand up to his face and rubbing it in order to hide the flushed colouring, "Stop with the innuendos. My poor little heart can't handle that."

The boy looked down at me with puppy eyes that not even the worlds biggest sociopath could resist. Like honestly, how could anyone resist this boy?

I reached into his back pocket, earning a squeal in response, as I took out the keys that I had watched him place earlier.

"My poor heart can't handle you in general...but I'm not complaining am I?" I smirked, stepping across him in order to open the passenger door. I signalled for him to step inside.

He flushed at the gesture, but quickly concealed it, "And they say chivalry is dead...pshhh...Obviously haven't met a certain Tomlinson, now have they?" Harry bowed, and giggled, before entering himself into the car.

I laughed loudly in return, giving a small salute. As I walked around to the drivers seat, all that I could feel was my heart clenching in emotion. And it made my smile grow even larger, because I was finally happy again.

Harry had given me the opportunity to be happy, and the curly-headed boy had no idea just how much that meant to me.

I slipped myself into the threshold, and made myself comfortable behind the wheel. I placed my hand on Harry's thigh, squeezing it, and patting it gently, before returning it to the gear stick. Although the car journey had yet to begin.

"What'cha smiling at, Boobear?" He giggled, leaning his head over to rest on my shoulder.

I had to bite back the urge to confess just how much I loved him at that moment, my smile only growing fonder at the nickname, "You remembered?"

"Of course! Now tell me..." he whined.

"Just happy to be with you, that's all." I brushed the curls away from his eyes, his head still leaning against my shoulder.

He slowly pulled away, facing me now, yet another blush growing slowly against his cheeks, "What did you mean when you said that your heart couldn't handle me?"

"Oh nothing..." I began. I felt myself flush. It was a conversation that I was certain I did not want to have, and yet I was positive that he would get it out of me.

"Lou!" A pout began to form on his lips.

"Not telling you." I smirked, at the whine that left his lips.

He looked up at me, blinking in such innocence that it could be considered a crime, and when he quietly let out a small, "Please," I knew that I had lost.

"It's just that you're so adorable, and beautiful, that it's normal for my heart not to be able to handle you." I grinned, placing a chaste kiss upon his cheek, before turning to put the car into ignition.

"O-oh," his blush only increased, yet his dimples were now prominent against his perfect complexion, "Y-you're beautiful too."

It was now my turn to flush under the compliment, "Thank you, love." I said, the engine now roaring to life.

"I'm not sure that you should be driving." Harry stated, placing his hand over mine on the gear stick, mindlessly playing with my fingers. Which I could not even begin to lie, was both very distracting, yet was also a touch that I wanted to feel forever.

"And why's that, curly?" I hummed, paying as much attention as I could to the road ahead.

He giggled then, bringing his hand up to his mouth to stop the sounds, "Because you almost killed me last time."

I turned to give him a stern look, "Harry...that's not funny. It was serious, and it's something that I will never forgive myself for."

I watched his face slowly turn to one of regret, he pulled his hand away from on top of mine and instead placed it among his own lap. The lack of contact caused my heart to ache, that feeling only increasing when Harry spoke.

"I'm sorry, Lou. I didn't mean to make you mad. You're a good driver, it wasn't your f-fault." His voice cracked at the last syllable, as I watched him look out of the window, the surroundings becoming a beautiful blur.

I reached over, my eyes trained once again on the road, as I felt around for his hand on his lap. He must have sensed my struggle, because he quickly linked our fingers together. I bought his hand up to my mouth, and gave it a soft kiss.

"You don't need to apologise, love. I wasn't mad...it's just that I could have lost you. And you may not have remembered me, but I had kept you right here..." I held his hand to my heart, and watched as his eyes softened at my racing pulse, "kept you right there, every day of my worthless existence. But I just want you to know...that no matter if we get married, or stay just as friends...that you changed that. You gave my life meaning again."

He spoke, with glossy eyes, "I'm so glad I met you...the circumstances might not have been the best. But I wouldn't have had it any other way." The look of pure adoration that he presented me with was dizzying.

I felt as if I were in a bubble of ecstasy, the feeling was addictive, and it had me craving more.

"Me too. As sappy as this may sound...you're the best thing that ever happened to me. And I just want you to know, that I want to take things slow." I said, feeling guilty as I watched his face fall for a brief second.

"Oh..y-yeah that's fine. But e-erm why?"

I sighed, "I want to treat you the best that I can. Because that's what you deserve. And I want to make you feel loved, yeah. Which is why I don't want to rush anything. If we are meant to be, we are meant to be." I brushed the curls from his eyes, and caressed his cheek, as we grew increasingly closer to our destination.

"We are meant to be." He spoke so softly that I almost missed the words that he mumbled out, yet I was glad that I heard them.

At this rate, I was unsure on how the day could get any better on my behalf, but I had a certain green-eyed boy to impress. And I would do anything in my willpower for just that.

-

Twenty minutes later, I was pulling up to the car park. The heavy bass of carnival music, and the radiant smiles of all creating an ambient that I was all too excited to become a part of.

I looked over to find Harry asleep, with his head resting against the window. Small puffs of air being released through his mouth. The sight made my chest grow in fondness, it almost made me feel guilty to have to wake him up.

And as creepy as it sounded, I did not want to. I wanted to observe the way in which his lips parted, the way in which he looked so at peace. It bought a smile to my face, at the thought that he felt comfortable enough around me to fall asleep. To not be embarrassed at the action. Because there was no need to be embarrassed, he was beautiful. The most beautiful person I had ever seen, and would ever see.

"Harry, baby. We're here." I said softly, shaking him as gently as I could.

He simply groaned, and turned his head away from me, finding himself a more comfortable position in which to continue his sleep.

"Hazza..." I cooed, smiling to myself when he refused to wake.

I pressed my lips to the corner of his mouth in a sweet gesture, "Harold, please."

Once again he groaned. His eyes fluttering for a few seconds before opening, and adjusting to the artificial lights. He bought his knuckles up to his eyes, rubbing away at the sleep, before spreading his arms wide, "Cuddle me, Lewis."

And dear god. The sound of his raspy, freshly woken voice, mixed with the innocence of his words, caused my eyes to darken in lust. I coughed back the thoughts and pulled him into my arms.

"Your wish is my command, sir." I said, allowing for his head to rest at the crook of my neck.

As I rubbed my hands up and down his back, and felt the way in which our bodies moved in sync to our breathing, I thought about how this was not normal for a first date. The closeness, and the way in which we felt so comfortable with each other. And yet that was the thing. We felt comfortable to be like this, it was as if nothing had changed, but our ages.

And now we were old enough to know what we wanted, and the fact that we wanted each other, was what gave me a new bound of hope.

"I love this." His words were muffled by my shirt.

"What's that?" I questioned, grinning against the top of his head, breathing in the vanilla scent.

"Being here with you. It's nice. Feels right." Harry said.

Once again the urge to connect my lips to his was strong, but I made do with pressing mine to his forehead, and then to his cheek, and then to his other cheek, and to his chin, and finally to his nose. Leaving us both a giggling mess.

"Me too, it's perfect."

"This is a date, right? I-I just don't want to get the wrong idea." He looked up at me, his eyes wide and hopeful, and yet there was a level of underlying worry present.

"I'd take offence if it were anything but. You know I like you, so come on...let's get our arses out of here and on the actual date." I said, pinching his cheek as I made an attempt to open my side of the car.

"But Louuu... I'm comfy." He whined.

It was safe to say that I was enjoying this Harry much more. I obviously still loved the Harry that was possessive, and controlling. But it was something about this Harry, so submissive, so innocent, and so himself... that made me crave more.

I could not help but smile at everything he did, at every little action he would partake in, at every little scrunch that his eyebrows made when I looked at him with such fondness in my eyes. But it was something that I just could not hide. Something that I did not want to hide.

"I'm comfy too, darling...but come on, you'll have fun, we'll resume the cuddling some other time." I said

"Promise?" He held his pinky out for me, along with his best pout, that honestly had me bursting at the seams.

I linked my pinkie with his, bringing it up to my mouth for good measure, "I promise. Now come on."

I opened my side of the car, holding my hand up in order to tell him to wait. He did as was told, which allowed for me to sprint round to his side and hold the door open for him. Sue me for being a gentleman.

Harry beamed at the action, the praise going straight to my heart. He rubbed his hand against mine, not-so subtly implying that he wanted his to be held. Which I complied to happily.

"You ready, darling?" I spoke, running my hands over his knuckles to calm his shaking palms.

He grinned, dimples so prominent that I could not help but reach out and poke one, to which he giggled, "I'm ready, Lou."


	23. Chapter 23

LOUIS POV

"Good." I smiled up at him, giving his hand a tight squeeze before leading him up to the ticket stand.

It was only then that I took into account the height difference between us. I had always wanted to be seen as the more dominant piece of the relationship, yet I could not help but feel that something as small as Harry being taller than I, would have an effect on that. The thought caused for my smile to falter for a brief moment, unintentionally loosening my hold on his palm as a result.

"You alright, Lou?" Harry asked, his face portraying a light wash of concern.

"I'm fine, yeah. But quick question...Do you e-erm...Do you think I'm manly?" I asked, unable to contain my serious expression once he had snorted, presenting me with a look of misbelief as he chuckled into his palm.

Once his laughter had finally died down, he asked, "Wait...you're serious?" a smirk beginning to play at the corner of his mouth.

I groaned, hiding my face in embarrassment with the hand that was not in his grip, "Harry...answer the question."

It was silent for a while, as the curly-headed boy seemed to be deep in thought. Yet the ongoing silence only caused for my insecurity to fester, as I was made to believe by my own mind that the pause was simply Harry figuring out the best way to let me down gently.

I knew that height should not even be considered a topic for my insecurity, I had so much more to feel bad about. Not only about my body, but my weak personality as a whole. And yet I did not want to to be determined by others based solely on my height, I did not want for Harry to think of me as not enough and later seek somebody who could seemingly take care of him. Because, deep down, I knew that I was not enough for him; every fibre in my body screamed it at me on a constant 24/7 loop. But I wanted to be enough, I really did.

"I think you're daddy as fuck." He nodded down at me.

I choked on my own saliva, bursting into a coughing fit as a result, whilst Harry being Harry patted my back in order to help it die down. It was quite frankly a natural reaction, I had thought, due to the fact that such words had fallen from his mouth in such a delicate, yet obscenely attractive way. I had never thought that I would find the word 'daddy' attractive, and yet there I was, doing my best to control the blood flooding into my groin.

Once I had finally recovered, I spoke, "Be serious, please. You're taller than me, by quite a lot, surely that makes you feel more manly?"

He laughed, his emerald eyes reflecting the bright, coloured lights, his voice barely a whisper among the mixture of heavy music and high-pitched screams, "I love your height, it's... how do I put it?"

"Feminine, embarrassing?" I supplied.

"It's misleading," Harry concluded, "It's a good thing, trust me."

"First of all that's a good thing...because? And second of all, how the hell is it misleading?" I questioned, entranced and only slightly distracted at the way in which his lip constantly seemed to twitch up into a permanent smirk.

"Because from a glance, you seem like you'd bottom, and well...that's clearly not the case." He laughed, slapping my arse lightly as we continued to walk to the stand. Which only caused for me to blush at the out of character gesture.

I gave his arm a quick swat, "Well..I mean...you're right. But still, jesus Harry, stop being inappropriate." I could not contain my laughter, and neither could he. And once again, it felt right, it felt perfect, "This night is gonna give me a heart attack, I swear."

"Two wristbands, please." I smiled at the lady who was working the stand. She looked surprisingly familiar, long brown hair, green-ish eyes... it wasn't even that she reminded me of Harry, it was something else. Something that seemed all but a distant memory, a memory in which I was fighting to reach the surface.

And for some particular reason the familiarity of the women did not seem register in my mind, and from the way that she was scanning my every feature, it was clear that she seemed to be having the same issue.

Harry watched in a clearly confused state at our wordless interaction. The last thing that I wanted was for him to feel uncomfortable, because after all, there was no need. It was only that the brunette girl sparked a memory within me that for one reason or another left a dead weight of what seemed to be guilt upon my heart.

"Oh my god..." she slowly seemed to catch on to who I was, unfortunately before I had the chance to do so, "Louis?"

And just like that...it had clicked.

"Holy shit! Danielle?" I smiled, swallowing down the nausea that I still felt on having left her in that position at the party.

"Long time no see, huh?" She said, "Two wristbands, yeah?" She questioned, and both Harry and I nodded in confirmation, "And who is this handsome boy?" She asked, as she typed something down on a machine that immediately began to print out the two pink passes.

"He's mine," I said, the words slipping out of my mouth before I could stop them, my eyes widening in horror, as Danielle simply let out a loud laugh, "I-I mean..he's Harry." My cheeks were now coated in a dark blush, as I stared down at the floor in a bashful manner.

"Oh? Am I now?" Harry teased from beside me, clearly feeling slightly uncomfortable, yet not letting that show and instead supplying Danielle with a small wave, "That's me, Harry Styles."

Danielle laughed, a true laugh, "How posh, Harold."

"It's just Harry, I'm afraid." Harry spoke out politely.

"Yup...only I can call him Harold." I muttered under my breath, not enjoying the attention being on my boy. Although truth be told, he was not my boy. Not yet at least.

"Did you say something, Boobear?" Harry grinned down at me in a teasing manner.

"Boobear!" Danielle cackled, "What the fuck kind of a pet name is that?" She had her hand over her mouth in order to conceal the laughter, whilst I only groaned in mortification.

"Nope...nothing at all, Harold."

"Hey!" Danielle spoke out in mock offence, "how comes he can call you that and I can't?" She pouted, and if I were into women, I perhaps would have found it cute.

"Because I'm his." He shrugged casually, as if he were oblivious to the fact that those three words alone mended whatever pieces of my heart were still broken.

"So...Louis, I guess you really weren't lying about not swinging my way." She chuckled.

"Nah...oh and yeah, I'm sorry about that by the way." I said, whilst giving Harry's hand a quick squeeze, and wiping the perspiration from my forehead with my other hand.

"Oh! That's no problem at all. Really...there's no need to apologise," she glanced at the small queue that was beginning to form behind Harry and I, and frowned, "Shit. I really should get back to work now. It was lovely meeting you Harry, and nice seeing you again Louis. Here are your wristbands...have a nice time, boys." She supplied us both with a genuine smile that only proved to me what a lovely girl she in fact was, and that only caused for me to feel worse about what had happened at that party.

Both Harry and I took our bands and secured them to each other's wrists with a smile, as well as offering a quick goodbye to Danielle.

I felt as if a small weight had been lifted off of my shoulders, considering that she had not seemed too affected in seeing me. Not only that, but I was glad that I had the chance to apologise, and it may not seem like a lot to some people, but I felt as if it were the least that I could have done.

We walked past the gates, and only once we had passed the threshold, did Harry release my hand from his own.

I looked up at him with not only a questioning glance, but a hurt one also. It made me feel as if he did not want to be seen with me like this in public. Which then again was understandable, because who would? Yet I had thought that Harry would be the last person to worry about what others thought about whatever relationship that we may have had in the works. I had clearly been mistaken. And well, if that caused for my freshly mended heart to shatter slightly, then no one had to know.

"It's for the best, Lou." Harry spoke out, voice laced in sympathy, in regard to my hurt expression.

"Is it though? Best for us... or best for the people around us?" I questioned, not intending for my words to come out quite as harshly as they had.

"I'd like for nothing more than to show you off to the world, but are you truly ready for everybody to know?" He asked, and when I failed to muster up a response, he simply continued, "Besides...you're the first and only boy I've ever had feelings for, and I don't know what that means for me. I have no issue in screaming it out to the world if you're ready too, but something tells me that you're not."

I looked up at him, my voice small, "You're right. I'm not ready, not yet at least."

And it was so wrong that I felt like that, in my eyes however. Because Harry, the boy who had only just come to terms with the fact that he was not straight, was ready to announce it to the world. Yet I, the boy who had fallen for him at the age of just twelve, and had carried that love deep within me for all the meaningless days that I had had up until now, was unable to come to terms with it.

"And that's perfectly okay, Lou," he smiled down at me, brushing his fingers along my cheekbone in a small, yet meaningful gesture that calmed my racing heart, "I understand. And I'll be patient...I can wait. Because I like you, I really do."

"You deserve to be with someone that isn't a coward, that isn't scared of what other people will think." I mumbled out, the words alone, hurt to say. But I needed to give him the option. He had to at least have the chance to take the easy route out.

"You're anything but a coward," Harry began, "Danielle seemed to know about you liking guys, and one person is better than no people. You had the courage to tell her...and I may not know the context behind that, but it must've been hard to say."

"She was the one from the party." I mumbled out, fearing his reaction and so I kept my gaze trained to the concrete floor.

He laughed softly, "The one who unintentionally caused the accident?"

I nodded slightly, looking up the see his eyes shining brightly, and his dimples on full display.

"What a small world!" He spoke out, small bouts of laughter escaping his lips.

I answered, my voice so quiet that it was lost within the confines of the wind, "You have no idea."


	24. Chapter 24

LOUIS POV

"Louis, please."

"I said no."

"But it's not a proper date without one." Harry spoke, his bottom lip jutting out in a way which I found nearly impossible to refuse.

I sighed, "It is a proper date...just a date that isn't the definition of cliche."

"But I love cliche." His green eyes were fixated among the array of stands, each individual one stacked to the brim in different prizes.

"Let me guess...you want me to win it for you?" I let out a sigh to act as if I were annoyed, when in reality his persistence sparked a feeling of joy deep within me.

"My hand-eye coordination sucks," he frowned, before a smirk took over his features, "And that's not the only thing that sucks." The boy sent a wink in my direction, the action alone mixing around my veins in a way that left me intoxicated.

I ran my hand along my face and then up to my hair, fixing the wind-swept mess the best that I could, "You, are going to be the death of me young man." Attempting as hard as I could to not let my laughter slip at his terrible joke.

He grinned, pearly teeth on show, dimples forming craters against his skin, "So I take that as a yes to the bear then?"

It was clear to see from his expression alone, that he had rarely been granted that in which he had asked for; which was not what I had expected at all. As far as I was aware he had come from a financially stable adoptive family, yet that caused for me to furrow my eyebrows, because I had never had the true chance to ask him about his upbringing. Each and every time that childhood was bought up, it always consisted of me unintentionally, possibly even intentionally, adding a coating of deep seeded guilt to his already sympathetic heart.

I provided the largest smile that I could muster, which actually proved a lot easier than I had intentionally thought, because how could I not smile when Harry Styles was smiling?

"Yes...fine," I rolled my eyes in a playful manner, "I mean, I'll try? I was always better at football." I said, as I placed a light grip to his forearm in order to drag him to the stand closest to us.

I gave a glance upwards in order to ensure that the stall was to his liking, to which he smiled in confirmation, although his mind was seemingly distracted.

"Three balls?" I called to the middle aged man working the particular event. His skin was faded into a texture that reflected leather, a shadow of stubble dancing along his chin. His eyes grey and worn out, the crows-feet by his eyes no longer indenting against his skin when he smiled. He seemed lost, seemingly tossed away from the joys of day to day life, and instead subjected to the mindless crowd of work.

"Sure," he sighed, turning around to retrieve that of which I had requested, "That'll be £3, sir." And it was clear to see that the man tried, truly tried, to show a glimpse of happiness, a glimpse of hope toward the customers. And yet it was an act that he had lost the ability to use a long time ago.

I looked toward Harry, I took in his distressed and almost sympathetic glance that he provided toward the man, and I knew what I had to do. It was an act that I myself was far from familiar with, yet I felt it the least that I could do.

I reached into my pocket, retrieved the wallet and took out the three coins, before placing them gently into the mans awaiting palm, "I like your shirt, sir. It really brings out the colour of your eyes." I spoke out, feeling my mood lift infinitely higher as I saw both the mans, and Harry's expression change to one of happiness.

He looked around awkwardly, a smile threatening to break his tan skin, "M-me?" He pointed to himself in disbelief.

I nodded, grinning, "In fact, I think I have one similar. You wear it better though."

Harry could not wipe the smile off of his face, because I had done something so selfless, I had put another persons mood before my own and he could not seem to be prouder.

And as for the man working the stall, he did not even mention the fact that to an onlooker it would seem as mindless flirting on my behalf, because it was not. And I think that he knew that. Yet I also believe that he was just happy to have been shown kindness.

And well, if it felt this good to show kindness, then it was an act in which I would have to indulge myself in more often.

"I-I...Thank you," he grinned, loosing ten years of his age in that simple gesture alone, "That's made my day."

"Well I'm glad." I smiled, teeth on show, eyes reflecting my true happiness.

I grabbed across the counter for the first ball, finding the stack of cans in which to aim for. I felt for the weight of the ball, mentally calculating the distance in my mind so that I would know with which instensity to throw the ball at. I threw the ball, only knocking off one can in my attempt.

"Don't worry kiddo, still got two more attempts." The middle-aged man spoke.

I nodded, looking at Harry and rolling my eyes, "I swear to God if this bruises my ego, I'm blaming it solely on you."

"I'll still like youu." Harry sing-songed, "Besides, I'll have to because with that aim, there's no way I'm getting a bear."

"You'll get a beard at this rate." I grumbled.

"A beard? No thanks...Don't think I would suit facial hair." He smiled, innocence lacing the syllables.

"Harry, that's not what I-I...never mind." I shook my head in laughter, picking up another ball. Determined to prove the green-eyed boy wrong.

And I did.

I threw the ball with all the strength I could muster, the object flying in a perfect bee-line towards the cans, and in turn toppling them all over almost simultaneously.

"So? What was that, Harold?" My expression laced in smugness, his laced in pure shock.

"I-Oh...wow."

The middle-aged man laughed at Harry's reaction, "I'm gonna take a wild, and hopefully not offensive guess, that the bear is for curly?" To which I let out a loud laugh, Harry hiding his flushed face against my shoulder, "Thought so...Go ahead and take your pick." He smiled, and I was not only glad that I had brightened up his mood, but the fact that he had not shown any signs of discrimination sparked a new sense of hope within me.

Harry lifted his head, taking in the time to view the range of available prizes. His eyes glistened in joy, and I was simply glad that such a small act could cause such happiness within him.

"That one." His voice was small, almost embarrassed, which caused for my heart to flutter. He pointed up toward a rainbow bear.

"Why am I not surprised." I laughed.

"I'm sorry." He spoke in small voice, looking toward his feet in a way that broke my heart.

"Don't be...it's cute." I scanned the area around us, and with finding only the middle-aged man to be paying us any attention, I took the decision to press a small kiss against Harry's cheek. He grinned in turn, allowing for the small action to have been completely worth it.

"You know what. As you complimented my shirt...I'll give you one each. Although one rainbow bear may be smaller than the other," he paused for a brief moment, before continuing, "The bigger one can represent Curly, and the smaller one you."

Harry laughed, a laugh that caused for him to bend over and clutch the counter, whereas I simply plastered on a fake scowl, "Hey!"

"Only stating facts, Kid." The middle-aged man retrieved the two bears and placed them on the counter.

"Well...you may have lowered my self-esteem by several notches, but thank you," I directed my smile toward the worker, "It means a lot."

He ran his hand across his chin, reciprocating the smile, "No problem at all. Have a nice rest of your date."

Harry quickly whipped his head to my direction, observing my reaction to the mans words, "O-oh...it's not a-,"

"Thank you, we will. Have a lovely evening." I finished the sentence for the green-eyed boy, not wanting for him to have to suffer through my fear of coming out, even if it were for one singular night alone.

I picked up the larger bear and placed it in the arms of Harry, myself picking up the smaller one and letting it dangle from my loose grip. I supplied the worker with a wave, and with that the curly-headed boy and I walked away from the stall, not noticing the shit-eating grin that Harry had seemed to have developed.

"You told him it was a date." Harry spoke out, his eyes shining in what seemed to he happiness, yet could be easily misinterpreted.

I hummed, looking down at my feet in what could have been the least confident I had felt in the entire night so far, "Oh yeah...I'm sorry about that. It wasn't really my place to say anything."

He lifted up my chin in a gentle manner, revealing the most adoring smile I had ever seen directed at anybody, "Don't be sorry. I really appreciated it, truly... it meant a lot, Lou."

I grinned, leaning up quickly to place a chaste kiss amongst his cheek, at this stage not really bothering to check if anybody had seen. Because at this moment in time, what mattered to me most, was Harry's happiness. And I would do anything to achieve just that.

Even if it meant facing my fears.

"Wanna go on a ride now?" I asked, yet when I looked up, I noticed that Harry's attention was not on me, but rather on another stand, "Okay... so you want to win one of those?"

"Not at all!" Harry exclaimed, as if it were the most absurd question to have ever been asked.

"Okay? Then why are you staring at them?"

"Because it's animal cruelty, Lou." He said, sadness etched into his vocals.

His sad expression was fixated among an array of different live goldfish to be won, each individual animal contained merely in a plastic bag filled with water.

"I agree. It's terrible," I said, "Want to hear the story of Nemo?"

"I've watched it already." His eyebrows furrowed.

"No, no. Nemo was my fish, and unfortunately he was a carnival goldfish too."

"You bought one of those fish? How could you?" Harry's expression radiated one of both hurt and betrayal, and quite frankly, due to the context of it, I found it adorable.

"Hear me out, yeah?" I began, to which he nodded, stilling his actions in order to give me his undivided attention, "So I was thirteen at the time, and I went to the carnival with the people at the Orphanage, it was a sort of day trip for one of the kids birthdays. Everybody was winning bears and stuff, much like us today, but I saw the fish, and I saw how little care the people winning them seemed to have...they viewed them as a toy almost. And I wanted to do everything in my power to save them...even if it meant saving only one. And so I did. And I gave him the best care I possibly could have. And instead of living merely a couple of days with the insufficient care, I saved up what little allowance I had, and bought him a tank, water conditioner, you name it. And little Nemo, ended up living 4 years... in a much better home than many would have given him."

Once I had finished the story, Harry had seemed to visibly cheer up, which was all that I could have possibly asked for.

"Nemo was lucky to have you." Harry smiled, and it took all the power in me not to reach up and poke the indentation in his cheek.

"I'd like to think so. But we're not adopting a Nemo jr, okay?" I spoke out, fake sternness coating my voice, because we both knew that if Harry wanted one, I would win one.

He pouted, and then smirked, "Can we get candy floss though?"

"Fine, But I'm paying."

"Nope, you're not," he began skipping away, his skin almost glowing in excitement, a look which was contagious, "Race you there!"

I followed suit, breaking into a small jog in order to catch up to the skipping man. Yet once I had reached his side, I face palmed at the fact that he had already paid.

"Harry..." I groaned, "this is supposed to be my date for you."

"But I want to contribute." He giggled, holding the candy floss above his head in order for me not to be able to reach.

"Well can you at least bring it down so that I can have some?" I said, my ego too high for me to jump for it.

"Come get it." He smirked.

I shot him fake daggers, "You know what? Nope. Didn't even want it in the first place." I then supplied my own pout, praying that it would work.

And it did, in its own way. Because now, we were sat on the ground, our backs leant against the back of one of the rides, the music partially deafening us, as Harry fed me the candy floss. Clearly revelling in my pained expression.

"Cute!" He said, grinning as he placed the last piece of the sweet food in my mouth.

"I'm not cute." I grumbled. Refusing to meet his eyes.

"Dark Louis, is the cutest Louis."

"Dark Louis? You know what, I'm not even gonna ask," but suddenly my mood lifted considerably, "You've had your fun, now time for the bumper carts."

"No! I'm not a violent person, I don't do well on those." Harry rushed out, instantly crawling himself into my side.

I gave his arm a quick rub, standing up and placing my hand forward for him to grab and lift himself up, to which he did, "Come on, we can share one. I'll protect you. Trust me...if anyone hurts you I'll kick their arses."

He giggled in response, pulling me into a tight hug whilst we were still hidden behind the rides, "Thank you, Lou. This has been the best day I've had in a long time."

And, well, if my grin shined as bright as the sun during the entire walk to the bumper carts, then that was nobodies business but my own.


	25. Chapter 25

LOUIS POV

"I swear to god if that little cunt hits our cart one more time I'm going to flip some serious shit."

"Louis... he's literally eleven."

"If he's only eleven then why are you clinging on to me for dear fucking life?" I said, smugness lacing my voice, as Harry struggled to detach himself from my side; a light dusting of pink spreading across his milky complexion.

"Last time I went on one of these things I almost got whiplash. Excuse me for fearing for my life." He spoke out, curls falling over his face in such a delicate manner that in my mind, the world paused for a brief moment.

The flashing lights of the carnival blended into one intoxicating mix, the burst of electronic music became all but a white noise. The whizzing bumper carts morphed into nothing but a still movement. The blue from my eyes became that of a stormy alloy, entirely captivated in the essence of the man beside me.

I was completely entranced by his beauty. I was certain that I would never be able to crawl my way out of the spell. My body and soul had been locked in, tied up, and left to rot in the environment that was the love that I felt for the boy.

And yet, I was far from sure that I even wanted to be freed. The pain that I had felt for so long had in my mind now been worth it. Because in simple words, as far as I was currently aware, I finally had him.

"That's why I'm here to protect you." I said simply, using my free hand to rub circles along his bicep, a comfort that I had long ago learnt soothed him. My other hand was occupied in directing the cart toward that same eleven year old.

I manoeuvred the bumper cart in the direction of the child's, trapping him in between the wall and us. And yet I refused to collide into his vehicle, for as Harry had said, he was just a child.

"Who's hitting our cart now, huh?" I spoke out, humour lacing my syllables as my childish behaviour began to leak out from my interior, causing for Harry to giggle beside me.

"Hey! You two are like forty years old. Act like it...old man." The child replied, before backing out and away from the hold that our cart had held on his.

I remained still, shocked at the words that the child had bespelled upon us. And by the looks of it, as I turned to face Harry, he was too left speechless.

It remained silent for few beats. The idea of ageing swirled brightly in the minds of us both.

"He-he called me an old man." I managed to squeak out, using my hand to sweep away at the sweaty fringe that was obstructing my vision.

"I can't believe he said we look forty." Harry breathed out, seemingly mortified at the accusation.

I looked him directly in the eyes, before throwing my head back in a distraught manner, "Oh god...we're getting old."

"You two look fine. Now...out you get, the rides over." The worker said, breaking us from our well deserved self pitied trance.

"Thank god for that." Harry let out a sigh of relief, placing his hand on my inner thigh as leverage to remove himself of the cramped cart. The action, although seemingly innocent, caused for me to tense. An understandable reaction to such a beautiful man.

"I don't know what you're on about. I thought it was fun." I grumbled, taking the hand in which Harry had offered, in order to get myself out.

He kept a grip on my hand as we walked across the floor, and continued to do so once we had reached the grass. And yet for some reason, I did not find a single molecule within my anatomy that urged for me to remove myself from the situation. If people wanted to stare, they could. At this moment in time, I could not care less about the judgment of others.

"It was traumatising. I never thought that an actual eleven year old would give me a complex. Better start moisturising more frequently." Harry said.

"You've never sounded so gay." I said without thinking, but instantly went to backtrack, for what I had said was out of order, and quite frankly possibly offensive.

Harry stared at me with an unreadable expression, and yet made no move to detach his hand from my own.

"Harry I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. It's not right for me to assume that, or make jokes so soon."

And yet to my surprise, he burst into laughter, and pulled me into a tight hug, "Jesus Christ! I know, I don't care... trust me," the vibrations of his laughter racked throughout me, manifesting an electricity to spread that I never wanted to end. "Although, now that you mention it, that did sound pretty gay."

I nodded my head in agreement, returning the laughter, "It did."

Our gazes remained locked, content in the entire situation. I wanted for nothing more than to bring my lips to his, to seal the entire date in permanent euphoria. And yet that had to wait, until the end. I wanted to do this properly, and I would.

"Where to now?" Harry spoke. His voice escaping his mouth in all but a whisper, afraid that a word too loudly spoken would destroy the perfect ambience.

"Your turn to choose, sunshine." I replied, reattaching our hands, and rubbing my thumb across the crevices of his knuckles.

He paused, looking up at the now darkened sky, his hand placed under his own chin in an attempt to fool me into believing that he was contemplating what was to be the final activity.

"I mean..." Harry began, and then shook his head before continuing, a twinkle of mischief present behind his emerald iris', "Nah, don't worry about it."

"Harold." I provided the boy with the most stern look that I could possibly muster, and yet even then, the corner of my lip upturning was visible.

"It's just...it's getting late. And we probably won't have time for another activity after this one. And it wouldn't be a proper carnival date without my idea." Harry supplied, his mouth twitching into a cheeky smirk.

I gestured to the two bears that I had been now forced to hold, they both were secured limply in one single palm, "You said that about the bears, and now look." My tone of voice was teasing, and he and I both knew that.

He revelled in the fact.

"Pleasee," Harry said, his bottom lip jutting out in a way that was simply impossible to refuse, "do it for your princess."

"Yeah...yes, okay fine. What do you want to do?" I questioned.

"Wait, really?!" His voice grew in pitch by a few decibels. Out of shock? Out of excitement? I was unsure.

"You really thought I'd say no?" I manoeuvred up onto my tip-toes slightly, "Thought I'd say no to my little baby." I squeezed his cheek gently, causing for a blush to disperse across his cheeks.

"Lou, stop. You're making me fall for you even more."

I grinned, unable to stop my heart beat from picking up dramatically, "That's the plan, love. Now, what was it that you wanted to do?"

"You'll love it. It's the definition of cliché." Harry said, humour present in his words.

"Oh, yay. You know me, nothing I love more than cliché." I said, rolling my eyes in a playful manner.

The action earned a light slap to my forearm, "Be grateful, boobear."

"Don't call me that, pumpkin." I reciprocated, before realising what had come out of my mouth, "Oh god. What have I become? This needs to stop. I promised myself no matter how romantic I may become, that I would never, ever, result to pet names quite that bad."

"I loved it, pumpkin," Harry grinned, in a clear attempt to hold back his laughter. An attempt that was failed miserably.

"Just tell me what you want to do." I spoke out, through gritted teeth, and even then I was unable to hide the fond smile that invaded my features.

"Follow me." Harry spoke, mystery lacing the sentence, as he placed his palm flat against my eyes. Leaving me in a state of darkness.

"You're seriously 'blindfolding me'," I said, through hand held quotation marks. I was honestly shocked that the boy had even thought to come up with the idea. If the thought had crossed my mind earlier, I would have never even let Harry place his eyes among the bear stand.

"Did you expect anything less from me?"

"Honestly...no." I replied. And although my tone of voice came across as bored, there was not a single doubt that there was underlying excitement present. The thrill of not knowing where our footsteps were taking us caused for my heart-rate to excelerate. For my blood pumping organ to palpitate.

For a few minutes it was silent, well as silent as it could be with music partially deafening you, accompanied with the screams of adrenaline swirling fresh in the air. It was peaceful. I wanted for the moment to never end. I had never quite felt so content within myself, my arms had not itched, my lungs had not craved to be filled. Because the truth was, that they were already filled. Yet it was not with smoke, it was with happiness. A concept I was unfamiliar with, but never wanted to defamiliarise myself with now that I had come to know the feeling.

The light breeze sent a creeping chill up my spine, and yet did not create goosebumps, due to the fact that they were already present from the touch of Harry alone. It was a concept that should have struck fear within me, I was never one for commitments. And yet I knew from the moment I first laid eyes on the boy, that I needed him for life. He was the one that I would never forget. He had wedged himself so deeply within my soul that he had almost become a part of me. I was not myself when I was without him. And I knew deep down that he was not himself without my presence either.

"We're here." He whispered into my ear, the sweet noise soothing me in ways that a simple action should not.

Slowly, much to my dismay, although I would never voice my thoughts, Harry removed his palm from my eyes and instead - causing for a grin to play at my mouth - placed it in my own grip. I could feel the light shakiness in his palm, the fear of me perhaps not liking the idea poured through his skin and into my body. Harry was an open book, a book which I would sell my soul in order to sit and read for lifetimes upon lifetimes.

And yet he had nothing to be afraid of. I stared up in shock. The bright lights reflecting against my eyes. I had never thought that I would enjoy the thought of this with anybody. But he was right, it was the most intimate carnival experience one could choose. The action made me melt from within.

"Tah Dah." He spoke softly, clearly trying to prepare for my denial.

"A Ferris wheel?" I said.

"You don't like it?" His voice was laced in concern, and I wanted to shake him and yell at him and cry all at the same time that he never had to be concerned around me. That he never had to worry about not being himself. I loved him for who he truly was, and he may not know how deep the love that I feel for him truly sits, but one day he would. He one hundred percent would.

"I love it. Let's go." I smiled up at him, my words sparking joy within him in a way that was clear to even the onlookers.

Our hands continued to be laced together as we were loaded up into the tight compartment. Much to my surprise, and much to my satisfaction, we received nothing but approving smiles. It was a beautiful sight to see. How as homosexuals, the community had come so far in accepting us. Of course there was yet more changes to be made, but it was a good start for sure.

As the wheel began to slowly rise to the top, I felt Harry's body inch itself closer to mine, as he spoke out in a small voice, "I probably should've mentioned this earlier, but I'm kinda scared of heights."

I laughed, because for some reason, it did not shock me one single bit, "You're so special."

"Erm...that's not a good thing. That's what my teachers used to tell me when I failed my tests."

My laughter bellowed out of me, I was unable to control the loud noise, I could feel my eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Louis! You're rocking the cart!" Harry squealed, clutching onto my side as if I were his lifeline. And yet, I simply continued to laugh.

After little to no time, we had finally reached the top. I was mesmerised by the view, and yet Harry refused to remove his head from the crook of my neck. Not that I held a single complaint.

"Harry, look up." I said, my voice escaping in a manner that was gentle, striking a comfort in him that allowed for Harry to look out among the entire scope of the carnival.

"Oh my god, it's beautiful." He whispered, completely captivated by the sight below.

"It is." I returned, and yet my eyes were focused on Harry. I counted the eyelashes that framed the most stunning eyes, I counted the freckles that had yet to fade from the summer. I even attempted to count the love that poured out from me, and yet there was not a number big enough to account for that.

I placed my hand gently across the span of his cheek, softly turning his head so that our eyes met in a perfect blend of blue and green. My gaze flickered from his eyes, to his nose, and finally to his lips. Where I stayed frozen in my glance for a few seconds. Harry began to slowly lean in, breaking me from the trance that his beauty had held me captive in, as I followed his lead.

The space between our lips felt infinite, we were galaxies apart. And then suddenly, we weren't. Our lips pressed together in a way that sent fireworks shooting through every atom within my body, my whole being tingled at the sensation. Our mouths moved in perfect harmony together, slotting into place as if we were hand-carved just for this moment.

Harry hummed in approval, as we continued to explore the angles, and the feeling of finally being this close. In a way that was surprisingly far more intimate than the first. The buzzing sensation never left my body for a single second. Up until the moment where we finally broke apart, searching for air. My lips felt numb without his. My whole body craved the intimacy.

Harry looked down at me with the most adoring smile, the most loving smile, that I could not help but reattach our lips. Finally sealing the date in what was to be the start of something new.


	26. Chapter 26

LOUIS POV

"I really enjoyed this date Lou," Harry spoke. I extended out my hand in order for him to be able to board himself back onto the still land, "It's quite frankly the best I've ever had." He continued.

"Seriously?" My mouth formed itself into the largest grin it had ever made, unable to conceal the giddiness that his words had caused me, "The best?"

"The best." Harry answered, slowly pressing himself closer to me in order to attach our lips in one single chaste alliance.

"You have no idea how happy that makes me," I whispered against his mouth, the sensation causing for goosebumps to arise against Harry's skin, "I've been waiting my whole life to do this."

I pressed our lips briefly together, pulling away for a second before reattaching them, and repeating the action until Harry finally let out an unamused whine.

"Stop teasing me." He pouted out, his doe eyes pouring every single emotion that they held straight into my own. The process sending a satisfactory tingle across my body.

"I'm sorry, love. It's just so tempting." I said.

I observed as a blush rose across his features, his head bowing instinctively toward the ground under the attention. However, after a brief period of staring at his own feet, his head lifted, revealing the famous dimples in all of their glory.

"You make me really happy, y'know," He began, his voice at a low level, yet the contact between our eyes produced an unspeakable level of communication between us, "I haven't felt this happy in years."

My eyes glossed over for a flicker of a second at the announcement. It was something that I could have only ever dreamed of hearing escape from his mouth. And yet, here I was, experiencing it in the flesh.

The feeling was completely indescribable. Completely magical.

"The feeling is mutual, Hazza." I replied, placing my hand on his cheek and softly brushing my thumb against his cheek bone.

"I'm assuming you have to take me back now?" Harry asked, essentially destroying the bubble in which we had built.

"I'm afraid so. But this is just the beginning, yeah?" I said, "Remember that."

The green eyed boy nodded, a sign that he had agreed with what I had said. A sign that caused for my happiness to only increase.

I bought my palm away from where it had been resting against his face, and instead laced it gently with Harry's. Our fingertips slotting perfectly together. So perfect in fact that it was almost eerie.

We began to walk towards where I had parked Harry's car. I had clearly not thought about how I would get back from Niall's, then again, I would walk anywhere, any distance, to ensure that Harry arrived home safely. Besides, Niall's apartment was not too far from my own, perhaps a ten minute walk at most.

And therefore, I was far from bothered.

"I don't want this day to end." Harry whined, his head resting against my shoulder, his arms now secured around my waist as we walked.

The car became increasingly more visible in sight.

"Me neither," I said, "but it's clear to see that you're tired."

"Nah...I'm not." He replied, but his movements were slowing down considerably, his eyes struggling to remain opened.

I shook my head in fond amusement, opening the door, and helping him into the car, as well as placing the seat belt over his torso; to which he managed to mumble out a small 'thank you.'

I shut the door behind him, making my own way round to the driver seat. Once I was seated, I felt Harry's head reposition itself so that it was once again on my shoulder. And I would not even dream of shaking the boy off.

I let out a content sigh, placing my hand on the ignition, as the days events replayed themselves in a loop that I never wanted to end.

-

"Harry darling, we're here." I said, trying to remove the etched sadness from my voice, and yet it was impossible.

The boy, with his head still on my shoulder, let out a small yawn, that caused for my heart to clench.

"Can't you stay over?" He mumbled, his voice laced in sleep.

He connected his eyes with my own, a pout beginning to form upon his face at the thought of me leaving.

"I don't think Niall would be too happy with that." I let out an airy laugh.

"He won't care." Harry said, his eyes beginning to shut once again.

"You never told me why you're staying with him?" I said.

Harry's eyes suddenly opened wide, his eyebrows furrowing in displeasure, "Remember Erika?"

I nodded, feeling my own face begin to drop. The girl had displayed something that had left a sour feeling in my mouth. I had always known that she was rude, but where this story was heading, I was not sure that I wanted to know.

"Erm, well... she kinda kicked me out?"

"What?" I asked, surprise evident in my tone, "Why would she do that?"

"Because I said I needed time away from her, she was being mean to you, Lou." His green eyes were shining, waiting for my reaction.

"You two haven't broken up? I-I I don't know what to say." I felt my heart shatter. Needing time apart was not the same as a break up. And my body had no idea how to react at the revelation.

"Louis," he spoke out softly, his hand coming up to the side of my face so that our eyes could meet, "we did break up, it may not have been official. But she knows. She knew how much you meant to me, even when I had no idea who you were. I defended you because I knew you were going to play a big role in my life, and I wouldn't change that for the world."

I coughed back the emotions that were pulsating throughout my veins, "Promise me you won't go back to her?"

It was clear to anybody just how insecure I felt. She was beautiful, I was average. Harry could have any person in the entire world, and he chose to be with me. In my mind it made not a fraction of sense.

In my mind I was just temporary for him.

The silence continued to fill the car, and that only caused for my heart to beat faster. His eyes had long left mine, and were now fixated upon the window, observing the scenery of the stilled car as if it were the most interesting thing that his eyes had ever seen.

"I wouldn't be able to deal with it, Haz." I made one last attempt, the words coming out as a whisper due to the vulnerability of the statement.

He turned to me then, and yet what I was not expecting to see was the solitary tear that fell from his eye. His nose red, his face scrunched up in despair.

"The fact that you think that I'd ever leave you... it breaks my heart. You're perfect Louis, and I'm going to make you see that, I promise."

"So you do actually like me then?" The words sounded ridiculous leaving my mouth, and yet the worry of them being denied lingered at the back of my mind.

He giggled, pulling me into his embrace, "You're such an idiot, you know that right?"

"Is that a yes then...or?"

"Of course it is," he began to pepper kisses among my face, small bouts of laughter escaping his lips as he did so, "Never liked anyone as much as I like you."

I grinned then, pulling him closer so that our breaths danced together. His eyelashes fluttered briefly, before shutting completely, our lips slowly brushing together.

The electricity buzzed throughout me, and I wondered if it would ever leave as time grew. And yet I doubted that it would, because feelings this strong for somebody would never dissolve. It was impossible.

Our mouths continued to move together, neither of us wanting to take it further at this moment in time. Because the kiss was sweet, it expelled all of the feelings that we were too afraid to announce out loud. And I found that beautiful.

We eventually, and reluctantly, pulled away. "I'll see you, yeah?" Harry asked hopefully.

"Of course you will, can't get rid of me that easily." I laughed.

I made my way out of his car, as he got himself out, much to my dismay. He locked it, and then walked so that he was stood directly parallel to me.

We stared into each others souls, neither of us wanting to part ways. Yet it was something that had to be done.

I pulled him into my arms, squeezing tightly, as if to claim him as my own. We remained in that position for a while, not knowing that Niall was smiling fondly at the sight from the apartment window above.

"Goodbye Boobear." Harry said, finally pulling apart from the embrace, and beginning to walk to his own door.

"Seeya," I replied, seeing him smile as he turned his head.

I began to walk away, "I love you." I whispered, not wanting for him to hear, the syllables getting lost in the air.

I placed my hands in my pockets, heading toward the direction that was my own home.

-

I shuddered into myself, beginning to feel the chill now that Harry was no longer beside me. It was strange to think the effect that he had on me, it was almost scary.

I reached my apartment door, slightly out of breath from running up the stairs. Excuse me for still being scared that an axe murderer was behind me, I guess I never grew out of that one.

Running my hand through my tousled hair, I placed the key into the hole. As I walked in, my whole being shuddered with the change in temperature, the heat essentially thawing me out.

I made my way into the kitchen, filling the kettle with water and placing it to boil. I put the teabag into the mug, and sat down as I waited for the water to heat.

My mind was filled to the brim with excitement, emotions, and feelings for what had happened today.

It was impossible that I had ever felt this happy, it was as if everything had finally fit into place for me. And I was going to superglue it in place to ensure that not a single piece escaped the threshold.

I had to let my feelings out somehow, and that was when I remembered that it had been a while since I had expressed myself in my journal. It was time to change the depressing thoughts that had drowned me and clouded my vision for so long, into something that was much more positive.

I got up, leaning my body backwards in order to crack my aching back. Making a beeline into my room, I made myself comfortable on my bed. The bedside drawer was still ajar, and I wondered why. I had not been into it since Zayn had been round a while ago, and yet it had been open since Stan's visit.

My mind failed to comprehend the link between the two, as I reached in to pull out my journal, only to find the space completely empty.

My eyebrows furrowed automagically, where was it? I was sure that I had placed it there. And yet I could be clumsy and forgetful. So even, if at the back of my mind I knew that I had left it there, I still searched every corner of my apartment.

Coming up empty handed.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, I reached down assuming it was Harry. What I didn't expect however, was for it to be Stan.

"Football Tomorrow at 10am? I'll pick you up?"

My eyes scanned over the text message, suspicion nagging at the back of my mind; still, with a clouded head I responded, agreeing to the proposal.

I let my body find itself back into my bed, the tea left forgotten upon the counter.


End file.
